


Fidelity

by lalazee



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Angst, Character Study, Cheating, Comedy, F/M, Happy Ending, Happy Ending for Beau, Infidelity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Ruined wedding, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: AKA, Zach's Skilful Circumvention of the Dangerous and Unintentionally Charming Chris Pine. Chris is engaged, Zach is his wedding planner, and everyone in the world is an asshole.[Originally written and published in 2011. I have not re-edited it since then.]





	1. Chapter 1

“I want everything to be perfect.”  
  
Zach smiled and gave the couple three years, tops.  
  
The Pine-Garrett Party consisted of a perky blonde with a flinty glint in her eye and her slow-to-smile fiancé with a face out of an L.L. Bean catalog.  
  
“With my help, it will be. Don’t you worry about a thing, Miss Garrett.”  
  
Beau Garrett had spent the past forty-three minutes going through her wedding binder with Zach, while Chris had murmured his assent on the errant ‘ _don’t you think, babe_?’ thrown his way. From the roller-coaster of eyebrow motions from Chris, it had been pretty clear that he hadn’t been aware of half of the plans for their spring wedding.  
  
No surprises there. Zach rarely encountered a groom who was strongly invested in their wedding. Oh sure, they wanted to please their wife-to-be and let them live the dream. But at the end of the day, they just wanted to get that ring on the finger and be done with the entire hassle of pomp and circumstance.  
  
Chris Pine unequivocally fell into that category. The way his bride crisply laid out her color, music, flower, dress, cake and ceremony preferences left no doubt in Zach’s mind that Chris’ opinion had not been necessary nor given in these choices.  
  
But that was none of Zach’s business.  _His_  business was weddings and making them spectacular.  
  
Beau gave a bright little smile and popped up from her seat, leaning forward to collect her belongings from the coffee table. Chris blinked, as if coming out of a dream, and lurched from the couch. He tugged neatly on his suit jacket and aimed a crooked curve of lips Zach’s way.  
  
“Thank you for your time, Mister... Quinto, was it?”  
  
 _Oh_ , where have you  _been_ , Mr. Christopher Pine?  
  
“Please, call me Zach.”  
  
“Zach.”  
  
Beau eagerly edged into Chris’ space and took Zach’s hand in a warm shake. “Zach, thank you so much. I can’t wait for our next appointment. It’ll be just us two, though. Christopher has work.”  
  
Zach smiled and flicked a glance to Chris, who was already scooting towards the door in that polite get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here way.  
  
“No problem – I can’t wait. I’m looking forward to executing your old Hollywood wedding design.”  
  
And he was. Despite what he might think about the Pine Party’s shelf-life, Beau had something going on with a classy wedding like this. She was a clever girl, he’d give her that much.  
  
While  _Chris_  was... no longer in the room.  
  
The tinkling of silver bells above Zach’s door alerted him and Beau to Chris’ retreating back. Beau laughed and rolled her eyes as she slung her purse over her thin shoulder.  
  
“Boys will be boys, right?”  
  
“Oh, absolutely. Like I said – don’t needlessly stress yourself. You and I will rock this wedding to the point that even your fiancé will be impressed.”  
  
“Zach, I can already tell that you’re gonna be  _the best_.”  
  
“That makes two of us.”  
  
The high pitch of the door bells matched Beau’s giggle as she waved and saw herself out. Zach found himself grinning after the perky perfectionist and her lacklustre man.  
  
Well, at least he wouldn’t be bored.  
  


***

  
“Hello?”  
  
“Um, Zach?”  
  
“This is he... Is this Chris?”  
  
“Oh, uh – yeah, sorry. Distracted. Listen, I’m supposed to be calling you about...  _frlts_?”  
  
“Sorry, did you just say something about Fritos?”  
  
“Fairy lights? I think they’re called. Stupid name.”  
  
“Fairy lights? What’s stupid about that?”  
  
“Just. Why would fairies need lights?”  
  
“They’re called fairy lights because the bulbs are in miniature. Suitable for a fairy.”  
  
“You’d think fairies would use lightning bugs in a jar or something. That seems more logical than finding a socket to plug lights in.”  
  
“I think you’re over-thinking fairy lights, Chris.”  
  
“I think we’re saying ‘fairy’ too much. It’s stopped sounding like a word.”  
  
“Chris – the lights.”  
  
“Oh, right – sorry. So Beau is upset, I think.”  
  
“Why do you think so?”  
  
“Well she was sitting on the floor and like, crying while surrounded by fairy lights. She reminds me of a very sad Christmas tree that has fallen over.”  
  
“Oh god, is she okay?”  
  
“She says they’re too big.”  
  
“The lights?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Would you put her on, please?”  
  
“She’s kind of unnerving like this. Are you sure?”  
  
“I’ve dealt with far worse, believe me. I’m here to help, remember?”  
  
“Right. Thanks.”  
  
“It’s no problem, Chris. Really.”  
  


***

  
“So, I’ve got to know – how did you and Chris meet?” Zach asked the obligatory question over coffee and flower arrangement catalogues.  
  
Beau looked up from her notepad, where she had been neatly copying flower names. Zach had said he’d notate her preferences for her, but – as with many things – she insisted on doing them herself, for peace of mind.  _Why_  had she hired him, again?  
  
“We’ve been going together since Berkeley.”  
  
Zach wouldn’t have figured the man in the suit for a Berkeley boy.  
  
“And did you tempt him with your unreasonably bouncy hair and ridiculously long legs, or what?”  
  
Beau laughed into the coffee she’d brought to her lips. “My legs are no match for yours, Zach. But you’ve got the gist of it. I saw him in a production of  _The Importance of Being Earnest_ , and knew I had to have him.”  
  
“Chris was a  _theatre_  student?”  
  
He had the actor’s face, but Zach wouldn’t have pegged him for an emotive theatre type. Either Zach was off his game, or Chris just became a lot more fascinating.  
  
Beau smiled and shrugged, clicking and un-clicking her pen. “Chris’ parents were both actors for a time. He had the same aspirations, until I think he realised that it wasn’t a steady way for us to live.”  
  
 _For_  us  _to live_. Uh huh.  
  
“What does he do now?”  
  
“Advertising. He’s very good at what he does, so...”  
  
“And by that, you mean you enjoy seeing him in suits every day.”  
  
Beau bit back a smile and dammit, she was as adorable as a fucking basket of kittens. But Zach wouldn’t forget that beneath it all she had a mind like a steel trap – and from the sound of things, she’d caught Chris in those metallic jaws long ago, and he wasn’t escaping any time soon.  
  
“Zach, have you been checking out my fiancé?”  
  
“Why else do you think I’m in this business?” Zach asked as he flipped idly through some truly heinous lily arrangements. “Looking for prospective future dates.”  
  
This time Beau did smile, and it was like watching a fucking Neutrogena commercial. “You are the most unromantic wedding planner I’ve ever met.”  
  
“I have an  _eye_  for the romantic – doesn’t mean I’m actually any good with it in my personal life. I’m much more content to watch you flounce off with ‘happily ever after’ plastered across your pretty face.”  
  
“Now  _that_  I don’t believe.”  
  
“What part? You think I’m covertly planning your demise?”  
  
“No, of course not. Just – I have a difficult time imagining that the boys aren’t falling at your feet. You  _are_  gorgeous, Zach.”  
  
“Flattery will get you everything except a discount, darling.”  
  
“Seriously,  _so_  bitter.”  
  
“Told you.”  
  


***

  
“I like this French braid h –”  
  
“Dull,” Chris murmured and pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger. “Nine letters, third letter ‘P’.”  
  
Beau looked fairly demonic.  
  
“ _Christopher_.”  
  
Zach cleared his throat.  
  
“Ah, soporific.”  
  
Chris flicked Zach a look, like he hadn’t realised you could be a flaming wedding planner discussing hair styles and still have more than a basic comprehension of the English language.  
  
Zach ignored it and flipped the page of Beau’s magazine.  
  
“Well, are you planning on wearing a tiara or veil?”  
  
“I’m considering it, but my dress is fairly simpli –”  
  
“Arrangement. Twelve letters.”  
  
“Organisation?”  
  
“Nope. There’s an ‘L’ towards the middle.”  
  
Zach scratched his jaw and frowned at Chris.  
  
“Tessellation?”  
  
Chris pointedly ignored Beau’s audible huff and frowned at the newspaper. He had a smudge of ink on his chin. His lips quirked an iota and he scrawled something on the page.   
  
“Yep. Thanks, man.”  
  
“I aim to please,” Zach replied dryly and turned to face Beau – who was looking rather homicidal, if truth be told. “Sorry,” Zach said with an easy smile as he placed a hand over Beau’s for a moment. “I can’t resist crosswords. Do ‘em every day.”  
  
“Hey,” Chris chimed in. Me too.”  
  
“As I was  _saying_ ,” Beau said, “I’m not wearing a tiara or a veil.”  
  
“Well, then you should go for something less subdued, don’t you think? Something intricate. Perhaps –”  
  
“Annoyance. Twelve letters.”  
  
Beau yanked the paper from Chris’ hands. “Christopher Whitelaw Pine!”  
  
“That’s more than twel – oh, I see what you did there.”  
  
Chris pushed his glasses atop his head and scrubbed his hands over his face, while Beau was silently huffing into a page where elaborate birds sat on top of brides’ heads.  
  
Zach leaned towards Chris’ ear and whispered, “Irascibility.”  
  
“Oh.” Chris tilted his head, his eyes widening in appreciation. “ _Oh_ , yeah.”  
  


***

  
“No, I don’t like this.”  
  
Zach patiently regarded Beau.  
  
“Okay. We’ve still got three more churches to look at.”  
  
“Good, great. It’s just that this one is so dark and creepy, you know?”  
  
No, he didn’t ‘know’. Zach thought the chapel was glorious. It was rather petite, as far as churches went, but the high, arched ceiling gleamed with the patina of age. The dramatic curves of the building reminded him of being inside a ribcage, right at the heart.  
  
The  _Friends_  theme song bounced harshly through the chapel, and Beau quickly scrabbled for her purse with an apologetic smile. She answered and gestured to Zach that she would be waiting outside.  
  
Zach quirked an eyebrow at her back and turned to face the pews once she’d gone. A familiar fuzzy head sitting near the front had him wandering over. He slumped in a seat beside Chris and matched his slouch. Zach lolled his head to the side, surveying Chris’ profile and that scar on his chin.  
  
“What do  _you_  think?”  
  
“Exquisite,” Chris said, his voice a mere rasp.  
  
Zach blinked.

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence. Zach looked down, comparing his chucks to Chris’ rather ugly loafers. Funny, he hadn’t realised how awful his shoes were before – always too distracted with the rest of the package.  
  
“Beau doesn’t like it,” Zach found himself saying. Dammit, if Chris  _liked_  the place, shouldn’t he say so? Or grow a backbone or something?  
  
“I know. I think gothic architecture intimidates her.”  
  
“What  _does_  she like?”  
  
Chris flicked a look to Zach.

“Isn’t that your job to find out?”  
  
“Isn’t it yours?”  
  
Chris shrugged.  
  
“I dunno, Barbie’s Dreamhouse?”  
  
Zach smothered a laugh.  
  
“That makes you Ken.”  
  
Chris snorted softly and looked to the ceiling.  
  
“I have genitals, thank you very much.”  
  
“Good to know.”  
  
“Add  _that_  to the wedding binder.”  
  
“The invitations, too. You are hereby cordially invited to the Pine-Garrett wedding at Barbie’s Dreamhouse. Let it be known that Mr. Christopher Pine and his genitals will be taking the place of Ken and his ascot collection.”  
  
There was that rare smile. A flash of white teeth with a gap in the bottom row.  
  
A conspicuous cough had both of them turning in their seats to look towards the back of the chapel. Beau stood with her hands on her hips, face expectant. Zach and Chris made their way back to her, Chris with a lazier swagger than Zach’s quick pace.  
  
Zach frowned, staring at Beau’s impatient expression.  
  
 _Barbie’s Dreamhouse, huh..._  
  
“Beau, I have a thought.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“You wanted the reception to be old Hollywood, so why not have the wedding and reception in the same venue? Rent out a renovated, retro mansion from the forties or fifties – some place with a massive dining room and fabulous garden and what have you. Who needs a church when a priest can drive where you want him?”  
  
Beau gave him a narrow look of contemplation, while Chris was staring at him quizzically.  
  
Zach shrugged.  
  
“Do it all in one big dream house.”  
  
Chris smiled. Twice in one day, that had to be a record.  
  
As if it had all sunk in, Beau squealed without regard for her surroundings and enveloped Zach in an enthusiastic hug.  
  
“Oh my god, Zach – you genius! This is why you’re here, seriously. I freaking  _love_  you.”  
  
“Honey, it’s what I do.”  
  


***

  
“Hello?”  
  
“Fascination. Eight letters. There’s a fucking ‘q’ in it, Zach. A ‘ _q_ ’.”  
  
“Heaven forbid the nefarious ‘q’ dares intrude upon the page.”  
  
“You’re just stalling because you don’t know the answer.”  
  
“That would be a fair assumption if it weren’t for the fact that I already did today’s crossword puzzle.”  
  
“ _Ugh_.”  
  
“Jealous much?”  
  
“Zach.”  
  
“Piquancy.”  
  
“Damn, you’re good.”  
  
“You’ll learn this eventually, Mr. Pine. Everyone does.”  
  


***

  
Chris was different when he wasn’t with Beau.  
  
Which wasn’t unusual with a couple – but normally, the two people would be more comfortable around each other. Easier with which to speak to and joke.  
  
It was the opposite with Chris. Beau had been called out of their lunch date to fill in for a co-worker at the spa, leaving Chris and Zach to their own devices over half-eaten meals.  
  
And there was no eloquent way to put it – Chris was  _different_.  
  
His strong shoulders relaxed beneath another expensive dove grey suit. Chris shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the back of his chair.  
  
“I heard you were into theatre,” Zach said, nipping on the tip of a fry.  
  
“Seems like a lifetime ago.” Chris busied himself with rolling his sleeves to his elbows, exposing lightly tanned forearms and fine, pale hair.  
  
“What made you stop? You’ve got the face for it, and Beau seemed to think you had the talent.”  
  
“Complications.”  
  
“How’s that?”  
  
Chris took a long sip of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips were wet and pink when he spoke. “Long story short, Beau didn’t particularly approve of the stereotypical lifestyle of an actor. As if I was gonna spend my weekends snorting coke off a hooker’s ass or something.”  
  
Zach stifled a laugh.  
  
“What? I always took you for the raving addict type. Don’t disillusion me.”  
  
“I’m a terrible person, not following in the path of Li-Lo.”  
  
Zach sighed.  
  
“She was such an adorable kid, too.”  
  
Chris nodded.  
  
“ _The Parent Trap_? Unrivaled levels of cute.”  
  
“I still eat Oreos with peanut butter because of that movie.”  
  
“See,” Chris said, with a sparkle in his gaze as he leaned in, “Normally I would be embarrassed to admit that I watched the fucking  _Parent Trap_  when I was like, out of high school – but I don’t even care with you. It’s a guilty pleasure.”  
  
Zach’s mouth ached from smiling.  
  
“Same.”  
  
Laugh lines splayed from the corners of Chris’ eyes.  
  
“I made my older sister pierce one of my ears with the ice and all, even though I could have easily gotten it done somewhere because I was like eighteen at the time. Yeah, that didn’t end well.”  
  
“I’m shocked.”  
  
“I know, right?”  
  
Zach leaned in and made a show of inspecting Chris’ ear.  
  
“I don’t see a scar.”  
  
“I came to my senses pretty quickly and removed it. Thank fuck.”  
  
“Yeah, I can’t see you with an earring. Even I’m not that gay. Okay, wait, yes – I did have that eyebrow ring in my teens, but that was not one of my best life choices.”  
  
Chris’ expressive eyebrows did a little wiggle that Zach couldn’t decode. Then Chris reached across the table and stole a fry from Zach’s plate, which left Zach wondering over the sudden prevailing silence.  
  
“So, you’ve got a sister,” Zach said, nudging the conversation along. He didn’t mind. He was used to asking questions in his line of work, and most of his curiosity was due to his innate personality. He enjoyed small talk, any talk – learning about people. Especially shy businessmen with playful eyes and a serious mouth. “What’s she like?”  
  
Chris’ lips twitched briefly, and his direct gaze pinned Zach, looked straight into him.  
  
“She makes me laugh.”  
  
He hadn’t been expecting that.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before.”  
  
Even less expected was the pink blush that bloomed up Chris’ cheekbones.  
  
“You’re not missing out or anything.” His eyes darted towards his sweating water-glass and took a quick gulp, like it was a lifeline.  
  
Zach didn’t bother to harness his own smile of delight. Grown men blushing? Good God, no wonder Beau had snatched this one up.  
  
“I’ll make that decision myself, thank you.”  
  
“We’ll see.”  
  
“I hope so.”  
  
Even Zach didn’t know what he’d meant by that, when Chris’ wary eyes found his again.  
  


***

  
“Oh my god guys, I need a slushie!”  
  
Zoe and Kristen exchanged looks and groaned.  
  
“No,” they both said firmly.  
  
“You bitches are such haters,” Zach said as he spun around on the pavement and walked backwards. He scrunched his nose at his best friends, glaring particularly at Kristen, who was yawning.  
  
Zoe raised a perfect eyebrow.  
  
“ _This_  bitch is done for the night.”  
  
Kirsten linked her arm in Zoe’s.  
  
“You know how he gets. One too many Long Island Ice Teas and the guy is like the Energizer Bunny.”  
  
“ _Tsch_ , you don’t know me,” Zach said. He tripped over his foot and stumbled with flailing limbs until he was forced to turn around and walk beside his friends like a normal human being. “Come get slushies with me.”  
  
“One,” Zoe said, “You know we hate slushies. Two, you’ll only drink the blue ones, and the only gas station that sells those is far over on your side of town. Three, there is no way in hell I’m walking any further in these heels when I’ve been dancing all night.”  
  
“True that,” Kristen said, and only laughed when she got an elbow in the side.  
  
Zach tried to shove his hands in the pockets of his trim, black slacks. But when he failed on the third attempt, he just ended up petting his hips as he spoke.  
  
“You guys are so mean to me. I need to adopt new friends. Gay ones.” Zach’s voice was steadily rising as he came to his conclusion. “ _More gay men_. I need gays in my life!”  
  
“Zach.” Christopher Sexypants Pine stopped dead in front of Zach, his eyes large and bright in the dim lamplight. “Uh, hi.”  
  
After squealing to a halt with the help of grabbing onto Zoe’s wrist, Zach gaped at Chris.  
  
“Chris?  _My_  Chris?”  
  
Chris’ lips parted and closed like he had no idea how to reply to that. Of course he was Zach’s Chris. As in, Zach’s client, obviously.  
  
Kristen giggled.  
  
“ _Your_  Chris? Have you been holding out on us, Zee?” She stepped forward with a slight wobble to her step and held out a hand. “Hi, Zach’s Chris. How’re you tonight?”  
  
“Fine. I’m fine, thanks. And I’m not uh –” Chris shook her hand briefly and took an abrupt step back, looking a bit dazed as he stared between Zach and his friends. “I see you guys are having fun tonight.”  
  
“I want a slushie,” Zach said and pouted. “A blue one.”  
  
“Not with any more alcohol in it, I hope,” Chris said with a faint curve of his lips.  
  
Zoe patted Zach’s upper arm.  
  
“Zee here holds his liquor about as well as a twelve-year-old boy. And, as you can tell, has the appetite of one, too.”  
  
Zach beamed at Chris.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
Chris dragged his hand over his mouth and Zach could almost swear he tried not to laugh.  
  
“Nothing wrong with that. Us boys never grow up, y’know. We’re permanently preteens.”  
  
“Which is why I can’t find a good one in this damn town,” Zoe said with a warm smile.  
  
“Less standing, more slushing,” Zach said, as he began to get antsy.  
  
“Sorry, Zee,” Zoe said, “Kristen and I are taking a cab. You’re on your own.”  
  
She clapped Zach’s shoulder with surprising force. He swayed towards Chris, who held up his hands as if ready to catch the leaning tower of Zach. Luckily, Zach was like a fucking ninja and found his balance before he toppled into Chris.  
  
Zach slung his arm around Chris’ shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially.  
  
“Worst faghags ever, right?”  
  
“Uh.” Chris looked down and away, his cheeks enflaming. “I’ll take your word for it. You want me to call you a cab too?”  
  
“Oh my god  _no_ , I  _abhor_  cabs.”  
  
“Abhor, huh?” Chris said with a slow smile as he ducked away from the weight of Zach’s frame.  
  
“Oh, yes,” Zach said, deadly serious. “They smell like vomit, and also I get motion sickness from anything. I get motion sickness from like, windy days. That’s why I hate Chicago and also Scotland. I’ve never been to Scotland but I hear it’s the windiest country in Europe, so I assume I wouldn’t like it. Although, Ewan MacGregor and Gerard Butler.  _So_.”  
  
“I can see your dilemma,” Chris said, with perfect white teeth flashing for a second. “Your friends are leaving.”  
  
Zach whirled around and waved as his friends climbed into a taxi.  
  
“Bye, bitches!”  
  
The only reply was Zoe flicking him the bird out the open window.  
  
Zach heaved a huge sigh and fixed his attention on Chris, who was looking down the street.   
  
"Why’re you alone?”  
  
“Me? I just got away from having drinks with some prospective clients.”  
  
“Wow, you sound fancy. You really are a fancypants. Very nice pants, too,” Zach said as he focused on Chris’ navy slacks. And loafers. “ _What_  – why the hell are you wearing loafers, honey? Oh my god. You are not eighty, take those off this instant.”  
  
Chris huffed a laugh and shook his

“Maybe when I get home.”  
  
“Burn them. Burn them when you get home. I’ll perform an exorcism. Men like you should not wear ugly things.”  
  
“Hey man, I like ‘em.”  
  
“You’re a geezer at heart, aren’t you,” Zach said accusingly. “Old, old man heart.”  
  
“You look like you’re going to fall over.”  
  
“I might if I don’t get a fucking slushie,” Zach cried. “They’re the only reason I don’t get hangovers in the morning.”  
  
“That sounds unlikely, but uh, come on then.” Chris gestured towards the direction which Zach had been walking. “I’ll take you.”  
  
Zach’s face lit up.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“Great,” Chris said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk.  
  
“Great!” Zach said as he marched beside him with a bounce in his step. “It’s weird to see you here. Like when you’re in high school and you see a teacher out of class and they look like normal people.”  
  
“Do I appear abnormal on other occasions which we see each other?”  
  
“You look like a male model whenever I see you, and you still do,” Zach said. He pressed firmly against Chris’ side, indicating that they take a left at the intersection.  
  
Chris didn’t seem to have a reply to that, and Zach couldn’t see his reaction as they passed through a point without lamplight. He sucked in a bracing breath of cool air and looked to the hazy, starless night sky.  
  
“I knew you’d have a really nice laugh.”  
  
“I don’t remember laughing.”  
  
“Well, okay, it was a miniscule chuckle, but still. I’m working on it.”  
  
“Why?” Chris sounded genuinely puzzled.  
  
Zach shrugged and swerved enough to brush Chris’ arm.  
  
“I enjoy it, I guess.”  
  
“Making people laugh? Yeah, I can see that.”  
  
“What, you think I’m funny? Funny like I’m a clown – I amuse you?”  
  
Chris broke into a smile as he shifted to glance at Zach.  
  
“You like  _Goodfellas_?”  
  
“What’s not to like? Ray Liotta is  _hot_  like a doorknob in a housefire.”  
  
This time Chris definitely laughed – and yeah, it made Zach’s body hum from head to toe. By the time they’d reached Zach’s particular gas station, they’d discovered that they shared a mutual love of Scorsese, both were terrible poker players – and Zach may or may not have tried to take Chris’ shoes off at some point. Overall, it was awesome.  
  
“This is awesome,” Zach announced as he burst through the glass doors and made a beeline for the slushie machine. “My  _preciousss_.”  
  
Chris trailed behind.  
  
“That’s actually a rather worryingly accurate impression of Gollum.”  
  
“Oh, my Gollum is unparalleled,” Zach said as he grabbed the largest cup there was and shoved it beneath the spout. “I practice it on Harold all the time. I read  _The Hobbit_  to him like once a month.”  
  
“Harold.”  
  
“My cat.”  
  
Chris grinned and shook his head. “Your cat. Of course.”  
  
Zach paid the shady-looking attendant with numbing fingers, and clung to his massive slushie as Chris held the door open for him.  
  
Zach sighed and said, “You’re  _such_  a gentleman,” then latched onto the thick straw with fervor.  
  
“Thanks?” Chris said, as they stepped out. “How far is your place from here?”  
  
“Well, as the crow flies...” Zach squinted into the distance and cocked his head.  
  
“ _Oookay_ , I’ll just walk you to your door,” Chris said as he took Zach’s elbow and began to lead him away.  
  
“A gentleman  _and_  a blond!”  
  
“Apparently,” Chris said under his breath, while Zach leaned happily against him.  
  
“All the good ones are straight or taken, y’know.”  
  
“Or very drunk,” Chris said.  
  
“I’m not  _that_  wasted.”  
  
“Uh huh. Are you aware that your straw went up your nose on the last four occasions you attempted to drink from it?”  
  
“I can’t feel my nose!”  
  
“Case closed.”  
  
“The silver lining in this situation is that I didn’t suck up any through my nostrils and into my brain.”  
  
“Your optimism is noted.”  
  
For the remainder of their walk, Zach was pretty placated by his slushie. He was happy to bump and bustle against Chris for balance as he stumbled home and slurped. When they reached his front lawn, the floodlights came on and bathed them in white pools.  
  
“I feel like we’re gonna be abducted,” Zach said as he smiled at Chris.  
  
Chris actually smiled back, with his head cocked and his eyebrows high.  
  
“Your entire mouth is blue.”  
  
“Is it?” Zach crossed his eyes and looked down at the tip of his tongue. “I’m blue.”  
  
“ _Da ba de da ba die_.”  
  
Zach sighed.  
  
“I really do love you.”  
  
Chris’ face went red.  
  
“Good, great. Goodnight Zach. Take care of yourself.”  
  
“ _Byyyeee_ ,” Zach said as he waved widely. “Thank you!”  
  
He already knew he was going to remember little of this in the morning.  
  


***

  
_Are you home?  
  
yes?  
  
Hung over?  
  
of course not, you saved me from that dreaded fate. ty.  
  
No problem. I had fun. Disney Channel now.  
  
why?  
  
You won’t regret it.  
  
omg li-lo! never ceases to amaze me that 2 preadolescents could set up 2 adults  
  
Shenanigans.  
  
you wanna know the real difference between us?  
  
Let me see... I know how to fence and you don’t. Or I have class and you don’t. Take your pick.  
  
YOU never cease to amaze me mr pine  
  
Why?  
  
you tell me. youre the one who texted me to quote a disney movie on a sunday morning.  
  
Tell me you weren’t doing something better than that.  
  
im not sure there is anything better than vicariously watching a childrens movie with you via iphone  
...has beau stolen you?  
  
Sorry, no. She’s at work. I was just trying to figure out the coffee pot.  
  
you cant make your own coffee?  
  
Lamill.  
  
youre one of those huh  
  
One of what?  
  
hopeless  
  
Maybe.  
  
when i come over next weekend ill show you how to make coffee. no extra charge  
  
Beau keeps saying she wouldn’t know what to do without you. I think I get it.  
  
this is martin, our butler  
  
We have a butler?_   
  


***

  
Zach was about to knock for the third time, when the door swung open to reveal Chris.  
  
“Zach – hi. Come in.”  
  
Chris stepped aside with a little smile and Zach wandered in. Normally, he’d be soaking up the feel of the house, noting all the telling nuances of keepsakes and knick knacks that made a person’s home.  
  
Instead, the first thing he registered was the heavy flip in his stomach at the sight of Chris in low-slung grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt. The youthful effect it had on him, let alone the thin cling of material to his now-visible muscle definition, had Zach forgetting for a moment why he was here in the first place.  
  
“Chris. Ah, is Beau home?”  
  
“Not yet.” Chris shut the door with his foot and stared at Zach with an unreadable expression. “She’ll be back from Pilates soon. I need to finish an e-mail for work, and I think Beau’s left all her wedding shit in my office from earlier. Follow me?”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
To distract himself from the rather awe-inspiring view of Chris’ ass – hey, he was only human – Zach concentrated on the decor. Fresh, simple and clean. A lot of white with metallic accents, along with a punch of teal here and there. It was like... Malibu in the eighties or something.  
  
And then there was Chris’ office. Zach came to the easy conclusion that Beau had decorated the rest of the apartment. This area screamed – no,  _grunted_  – of man. A worn out leather loveseat with rips in the seats, floor to ceiling bookshelves on one wall, a cluttered desk, two mismatched lamps, and a laptop that quietly played Johnny Cash.  
  
Chris didn’t speak to Zach. He just sat at his desk, back hunched, and returned to whatever work he had going. Zach plopped on the sofa beside a pile of wedding articles and Beau’s ever-growing binder.  
  
“So, are you excited?” Zach asked, and belatedly realised that he was genuinely interested. Either Chris has absolutely no opinions on anything regarding the engagement – which Zach highly doubted, from the glimpses he’d received of the guy’s personality – or he held himself on a tight rein for one reason or other.  
  
“About?” Chris’ long, sturdy fingers flew over the keyboard.  
  
Zach aimed a questioning look at the back of Chris’ head.

“Your wedding.”

“Oh. Yep.”  
  
“I know I’ve asked you before, but is there anything you’d specifically like at the ceremony or the reception?”  
  
“Nope. Thanks, though.”  
  
Zach just barely restrained a noise of frustration. What  _was_  it with this guy?  
  
“Whatever makes Beau happy, right?”  
  
The line of Chris’ neck was stiff as he paused.  
  
“Always.”  
  
Okay, so Zach’s gaydar might have been frustratingly non-existent for most of his life, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d alluded to his eye for romance. Zach was fairly good at gauging couples. Their body-language, expressions, and the way they threw themselves into their futures told him a lot.  
  
But with Chris, he just couldn’t pinpoint the problem. He was so utterly unenthusiastic in comparison to Beau’s gung-ho attitude. And yet, Zach knew it had been Chris who had proposed. Chris’ reticence was puzzling – and dammit, Zach was nosy.  
  
A big, nosy gay – whatever.  
  
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem kind of...”  
  
Chris spun in the chair, his eyes hooded.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Nervous. About the wedding. It’s completely normal, you know. Most of the grooms I encounter experience some element of cold f –”  
  
“I’m not nervous,” Chris said flatly and turned back to his work.  
  
“Because if you are, I’m always here to talk about it. I know I’m just a wedding planner, but I can be more. I’m here to make your experience a –”  
  
“You don’t need to be more than what you’re paid for.”  
  
Zach snapped his mouth shut, his face growing hot as he glowered at Chris’ stupid, adorable fuzzy hair.  
  
“Of course, b _oss_.” He stood and swept out of the room, saying, “I think I hear Beau.”  
  
He didn’t, actually. But anywhere else was better than here. Fuck. You go out on a limb for a guy – and who the hell knows why he had in the first –  
  
“Shit, Zach – hold up.”  
  
Warm, strong fingers gripped Zach’s forearm and turned him. Earnest blue eyes met his, and Zach immediately wanted to worm away from the unnerving, raw expression.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Zach’s eyebrows flew towards his hairline, but he remained silent.  
  
Chris’s hand was still on his arm, a firm weight that anchored Zach to him. Chris’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his gaze darted over Zach’s face.  
  
“You were right about my apprehension regarding the engagement. I was a dick to you for no reason and –” He shrugged and dropped his hand. “Yeah. This is all going... a bit fast for me. Don’t mention it to Beau. She doesn’t need to know.”  
  
“Um, sorry to rain on your parade or whatever, but that’s kind of something she  _should_  know, Chris. I’ve seen relationships disintegrate before they reach the aisle because of someone’s wavering position on the relationship. You can’t just subjugate that kind of doubt and not have it ricochet back at you one day.”  
  
“It’s nothing nearly as dramatic as you’re making it out to be. I just don’t want to stress her out unnecessarily. And I don’t need to talk about it – with you, or anyone.” Chris held Zach’s gaze for a moment and slumped back against the corridor wall. One hand dragged through his hair. “There’s nothing to talk about. Just cold feet, like you said.”  
  
Zach hadn’t noticed up until this point how emotive Chris’ eyes were.  
  
“You’re a horrendous liar.”  
  
The air stretched thin and brittle until Chris gnawed at his bottom lip and softly said, “Will you show me how to use the coffee machine?”  
  
“Dammit, Chris.” Zach pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed in pure exasperation. “Get your ass into the kitchen and I’ll school you.”  
  
“Thanks,” Chris said with more relief than necessary. Again, their gazes snagged and stuck. “Really.”  
  
“Don’t mention it. Really.”  
  


***

  
“Hello? Um, Chris - are you there?”  
  
“Yeah."  
  
“What’s up - why the phone call? Is Beau all right?”  
  
“What – oh, sure, she’s fine.”  
  
“Then?”  
  
“Um, apologetic? Twelve letters. ‘C’, something something ‘P’, and ends in ‘O’ something ‘S’... Zach?”  
  
“I’m thinking.”  
  
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”  
  
“Not really. I was washing the refrigerator.”  
  
“I don’t think I can feel guilty about pulling you away from that.”  
  
“I don’t know, I was kind of enjoying the manual labour. And yellow dishwashing gloves are such a sexy accessory this year.”  
  
“I can’t imagine anything more attractive.”  
  
“Sliding my rubbery, Big Bird-coloured hands all over your body? Definitely a turn on.”  
  
“No doubt.”  
  
“Compunctious.”  
  
“Wha – oh. Wow. Great, thanks.”  
  
“Goodbye, Chris.”  
  
“Bye, Zach.”  
  


***

  
“So, _your_ Chris,” Zoe said. She placed her hand, palm down, on top her tiny and scarred kitchen table.  
  
“He’s not my anything,” Zach said as he leaned in and delicately swiped one of her nails with a layer of eggplant nail polish.  
  
“Uh huh. That why you never talk about him?” Zoe smirked like she knew something that Zach didn’t.  
  
Zach frowned down at Zoe’s fingers and continued to paint, slow and meticulous.  
  
“Did you get that part you auditioned for last week?”  
  
“Like when you first bought your iPad and you didn’t even tell us for three weeks.”  
  
“It’s for a supernatural drama, right?”  
  
“Or when you buy ice cream and then I sleep over, ask for some, and you say you’re all out.”  
  
Zach scratched his itchy nose with agitation.  
  
“I’m going to paint all over your cuticles.” He could feel Zoe’s gloating smile infringing on his privacy, and it was starting to piss him off.  
  
“Whenever you have something  _really_  good, you hide it. Like you’re afraid the things which matter to you the most will disappear if you mention them.”  
  
Zach rolled his eyes and set aside the brush. He picked up a q-tip to clean the edge of a nail.  
  
“He’s one of my  _clients_ , Zo.”  
  
Silence stretched thin enough that Zach began to feel nothing but his pulse thumping dully in every joint and vein, angry heartbeats under his skin that he didn’t want to analyse.  
  
“Zach, that’s not good,” Zoe said carefully.  
  
Zach looked up then and offered a bright smile full of teeth and edge.  
  
“It’s  _all_  good, honey. He’s a charming person – no one can be immune to that – but it’s not like I’m gonna jump his bones or anything. He’s just some guy. Just some client.” He patted Zoe’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”  
  
“With you, I always worry.” But Zoe was smiling, and Zach took that as a victory.  
  
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel much like smiling for the rest of the day – no,  _week_.  
  


***

  
“And you mock my lack of coffee machine skills.”  
  
Zach turned around in the LAMILL line and beamed at Chris, all the while ignoring the little jig his heart did against his ribs. “A notable exception being one’s lunch hour.”  
  
“I’ll give you that. How’s it going?”  
  
“It goes,” Zach said with a vague wave of his hand. Chris was wearing Ray-Bans, and Zach kind of wanted to throw them to the ground and step on them. He didn’t like being unable to see Chris’ eyes. “I’m making a pit stop on the way to a client’s house. The couple want their dogs in the wedding and I’m supposed to make their acquaintance.”  
  
Chris’ expression was mostly blank under the cover of his shades.  
  
“That’s actually not the strangest thing I’ve heard. But still.”  
  
“Still.”  
  
“Wrong.”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
“Do you like what you do?” Chris said. It was probably the only personal thing he’d ever asked Zach.  
  
The line shifted and Chris’ hand brushed over Zach’s elbow for just a second, to direct him forward. Zach felt a flare of something volatile inside him and scrambled to dampen it down.  
  
“Um.” Zach tripped over his abruptly heavy tongue. “If you look past the Bridezillas and the perpetually whipped grooms and the mother-in-laws of Lucifer, it’s a pretty good time. Plus, free cake.”  
  
Chris’ smile was gradual and wide. “I like your priorities.”  
  
Zach flicked a look down at Chris’ chest, and realized that while Zach had moved away, Chris had moved closer. He gulped and smiled thinly.

“Yeah.”

 

***

  
A month had passed since the day in Chris’ home, and Zach hadn’t said a peep to Beau.  
  
Zach enjoyed the gossip mill as much as the next drama-starved, middle-class schmoe. But when it came to the people he cared about – and yeah, somehow Beau’s OCD adorableness and Chris’ stubborn loyalty had somehow wormed into his heart – Zach was a vault.  
  
 _That_ , and unfortunately it wasn’t his business. Zach knew it and so did Chris. So they moved on.  
  
“Hey guys, come on in.” Zach greeted the couple cheerfully at the door, offering Beau a double-cheek kiss and a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Welcome to our humble abode.”  
  
“Oh my gosh, Zach – what a beautiful home you have!” Beau barrelled into the room with her usual self-assurance, looking this way and that with a bright smile. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered in, quietly surveying the Quinto brothers’ homestead.  
  
Despite him and Joe’s disagreements from time to time, living together had always made sense. Both of them had moved from the east coast to the west within the span of three years, and it had been logical on a financial level to stick together. Saving money was easier when they were splitting the rent – well, and it helped to fund Zach’s hat and scarf addiction.  
  
Joe ran a pretty lucrative portrait business. He photographed everything from movie stars, to families, to giving Zach’s clients a discount on their wedding photos. Today they wouldn’t be doing official wedding portraits – this was more a casual, fun session to commemorate their individual personalities outside of a wedding dress and tux. This would celebrate  _them_.  
  
Zach grinned.  
  
“You sound surprised that two men can keep a house neat, Beau.”  
  
“Well, you’ve  _seen_  Christopher’s office.”  
  
The cat padded into the room, making a beeline for the man in question. Chris knelt and held out a hand for Harold to sniff. After a few seconds, the finicky feline deemed his approval and bumped Chris’ fingertips.  
  
A wide smile of delight lit Chris’ face as he murmured something to Harold. The cat apparently loved whatever sweet-talk he was receiving, because he ended up rubbing his side along Chris’ knees.  
  
Zach blinked and turned to Beau.  
  
“Sorry, what was that?”  
  
Beau’s attention had also fallen to her fiancé. Her grey eyes warmed and a half-smile quirked her rosy lips. She flicked her glance to Zach and waved away the question with a single playful look, as if she understood what had momentarily captivated Zach’s attention.  
  
Well,  _that_  was a little awkward. Maybe not for Beau, but it left Zach feeling rattled and exposed.  
  
Zach cleared his throat.  
  
“Let’s go find Joe. He’s probably setting up in the studio.”  
  
Beau bit her bottom lip in excitement.  
  
“A studio in your own house! That must be fun. I bet you get up to all  _sorts_  of things in there.”  
  
Chris sputtered a quiet laugh and Zach boggled at Beau.  
  
“Girl, get your mind out of the gutter. A man would have to be  _damn_  fine to tempt me into doing the dirty in my  _brother’s_ studio. Jeez.”  
  
“And why don’t you have a  _damn_  fine man to tempt you, Zachary?”  
  
“Um,  _standards_?” Zach said as they walked into Joe’s studio.  
  
“Who has standards?” Joe chimed in with a grin. “No one in this house.”  
  
He approached Beau and Chris with his usual jovial attitude and greeted them both with a firm handshake. Joe began to lead them over to the plain white backdrop when Zach caught Chris’ eye. His features were tight and his expression drawn.  
  
Zach frowned and gingerly tugged Chris’ elbow, pulling him aside.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Chris aimed a half-hearted smile at Zach and mumbled, “I’m fine, man”, before dislodging himself from Zach’s grip. He approached Joe and, much to Zach’s surprise, began to ask his brother about the lenses he would be using today.  
  
Beau came to Zach’s shoulder. “Chris hates having his picture taken,” she said lightly. She aimed an adoring look Chris’ way.  
  
Chris hadn’t heard. He was intent on discussing Joe’s photography equipment, or something technical that Zach had no interest in. With Joe, Chris’ face opened up with interest. God, his eyes practically sparkled like a Disney characters’. Who was Zach kidding? The man was a freaking prince.  
  
Which was why Zach was particularly surprised to hear this news.  
  
“Really? I mean, I knew he was shy, but... How did he manage to excel in theater with all of those eyes on him?”  
  
Beau shrugged. “You’d have to ask him. When he’s on stage, he’s a different person.”  
  
“He has presence,” Zach said.  
  
Beau gave him a look out of the corner of her eye and laughed.  
  
“Yes, I suppose he does. It’s like we can’t go anywhere without people noticing him, you know? I guess that’s why he prefers to be behind the camera if he has the choice. In his personal life, everyone wants a piece of him.”  
  
Her words felt unusually heavy. Zach couldn’t put a finger on the reason. He swallowed a lump in his throat and met Beau’s eyes. But she was staring at Chris, her gaze stormy.  
  
Then she was smiling and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.  
  
“All right, boys. Let’s get started.”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Joe said and gestured to the backdrop. Two high stools sat before it. “Why don’t you guys sit down for me?”  
  
They did as they were told, and Beau scooted her stool closer to Chris. He was eyeing the camera distrustfully, as if it were a dog about to snap.  
  
Zach slouched on the couch behind Joe and folded his legs beneath him. When Chris darted a look Zach’s way and licked his chapped lips, Zach smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up.  
  
Poor guy. It was kind of cute, the way he was so unaware of his body.  
  
Joe took his camera off the tripod. “I’m just going to take some preliminary shots. You guys just relax. Get into each other.”  
  
Zach watched silently for a few minutes as Beau murmured in Chris’ ear, in attempts to ease the stiffness in his posture. Chris’ lips curved awkward and lopsided, his eyes hinging on the camera at Joe’s face.  
  
Zach said, “Just pretend we’re all naked, Chris.”  
  
Beau giggled into the crook of her fiancé’s neck. Chris’ cheeks went red and his gaze lingered on Zach.  
  
Joe _tsk_ -ed.  
  
“Zach, stop sexually harassing my clients.”  
  
“They were my clients first. I can be as inappropriate as I like as long as they don’t fire me. I could take off my clothes right now.”  
  
“No one wants to see that, Zach.”  
  
“I do!” Beau said, perking up.  
  
Feeling inspired, Zach jumped from the sofa and made his way to Joe’s iPod dock.  
  
“Got anything good on here?”  
  
Joe’s shutter snapped away. It was clear that he wasn’t about to notify the couple when he was technically beginning.  
  
“What? I don’t know. What is it you listen to, again? Mika and the Scissor Sisters?”  
  
Zach pursed his lips and thumbed through the song selection. “I choose not to be offended by your broad generalisation of my character, because that happens to be true. Ah, here we go. This’ll loosen you guys up.”  
  
A familiar little jingle from back in the day carried through the air and Zach cranked the volume. One knee was already popping to the beat and his ass quickly caught up with sporadic swaying. On the mark, Zach turned on his heel with a wide grin and mouthed along to Janet Jackson.  
  
“ _Back on the road again, feelin’ kinda lonely and lookin’ for the right guy to be mine_.”  
  
Zach’s attention locked on Chris, who was blinking with a blank expression. Beau was trying to stifle her laughter.  
  
That wasn’t enough, of course. Zach’s shoulders began to move with the music, his facial expressions exaggerated to the lyrics.  
  
“ _Friends say I’m crazy, ‘cause easily I fall in love. You gotta do it different J, this time_.”  
  
The music was too loud to hear what Beau said in Chris’ ear, but a genuine smile broke through like the sun from the clouds. From what Zach could see of Joe’s camera-covered profile, he was grinning as he got the shots for which he’d hoped.  
  
Zach sashayed with exaggerated hip movement towards the couple, remaining behind Joe at all times. He bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes before bursting into the next stanza.  
  
“ _Maybe we’ll meet at a bar – he’ll drive a funky car. Maybe we’ll meet at a club and fall so deeply in love_.”  
  
His eyes found Chris’, who was actually beginning to tear up from the performance.  
  
“ _He’ll tell me I’m the one and we’ll have so much fun. I’ll be the girl of his dreams, maybe_.”  
  
Zach’s own grin was threatening to overpower his ability to mouth the words, but in the name of comedy he just couldn’t help himself. He raised his arms and rolled his hips into a frightful rendition of a belly-dance.  
  
“ _All right, maybe gonna find him today. I gotta get someone to call my lover – yeah, baby, come on_.”  
  
Somewhere halfway through the song, and Zach was miming that he was serenading his brother – who was pointedly  _not_  looking at him, and continued to take photographs of the jubilant couple.  
  
Beau and Chris were nearly collapsed upon each other with the force of their laughter. Beau would calm herself long enough to look at Zach – who would wink lewdly and mouth, “ _I love hard with everything_.” – at which she would completely crack up.  
  
Chris scrubbed his hands over his face and dared a look Zach’s way. Zach made bedroom eyes and crooked a welcoming finger in his direction.  
  
“ _My my, lookin’ for a guy guy. I don’t want him too shy, but he’s gotta have the qualities I like in a man – strong, smart, affectionate. He’s gotta be all for me, and I’ll be too_.”  
  
Something flashed and darkened Chris’ eyes, before he shifted and brushed his nose against Beau’s cheek.  
  
The song concluded with some more totally awesome dancing on Zach’s part – okay, he probably looked like a geriatric with a hip replacement, but it didn’t matter. By the end of it all, even Joe had set aside his camera and was gasping for air.  
  
Beau’s eye makeup was a disaster as she wiped beneath them with her fingers. She took a heaving breath to calm herself.  
  
“Oh my goodness, Zach – can you please just come home with us and do this every day?”  
  
Zach sauntered to the iPod dock and turned down the volume to a low murmur.  
  
“Sorry honey, lap dances are an extra fee.”  
  
“So worth it,” Beau said and sighed contentedly. She laid her head on Chris’ shoulder and asked Joe, “Did you get anything worth keeping?”  
  
“We won’t know for sure until I put them up on the laptop, but I’ve got a gut feeling there is some pure gold among these photos. I guess my little brother is good for something, after all.”  
  
Zach linked his hands above his head and took a long stretch.  
  
“I’m good at a multitude of things, Joe. They’re just talents in which you’d best remain ignorant.”  
  
“You’re gross.”  
  
“I’m insulted.”  
  
“Nothing insults you.”  
  
Zach thought on that and grinned.  
  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So –” Zach turned to Chris. “Was that a painful experience?”  
  
Chris slid off the stool and shook his head, smiling to himself.  
  
“Only for my ribs. Thanks, Zach. You certainly are special.”  
  
Zach’s smile faltered, and he didn’t know why. He also didn’t know why he felt vaguely insulted.


	2. Chapter 2

“I hope you know that you’re being a dipshit.”  
  
Zach looked up at Joe with a furrowed brow and continued to whisk his eggs and vanilla extract.  
  
“I think I passed the dipshit phase in like, eighth grade.”  
  
Joe leaned against a countertop and folded his arms across his chest. He had one of those smug older brother looks that made Zach automatically want to disagree with anything he said.  
  
“Nah, you never did. Sometimes you’re just awfully good at hiding it. Yesterday? Not so much.”  
  
“Yesterday?” Zach frowned as he recalled their photo-shoot with Chris and Beau. “What? Not a Janet fan? She was on  _your_  iPod, so it’s not like –”  
  
“Chris Pine.”  
  
To Zach’s credit, he didn’t drop the bowl he held. Instead he pursed his lips, approached his baking ingredients, and dumped the eggs in with the whipped butter and sugar. Zach picked up a hand mixer and motioned to turn it on.  
  
Joe chuckled.  
  
“You’re not even trying to deny it! This is worse than I thought.”  
  
Zach sniffed haughtily and refused to meet his brother’s eyes.  
  
“I’m not dignifying such a ludicrous notion with a reply.”  
  
“You don’t have to. I didn’t even allude to what I meant in regard to the guy, and you’ve already jumped to the conclu –”  
  
Zach turned on the electric mixer and allowed himself a wry smile of victory when Joe’s voice was partially drowned out. He waved the whizzing steel beaters semi-menacingly in his brother’s face. When Joe had backed off sufficiently – laughing the whole time, dammit – Zach returned to his batter.  
  
But Joe was persistent, as big brothers were wont to do. He was at Zach’s ear, pitching his voice above the whir.  
  
“You’re  _baking_.”  
  
“You’ve always been the clever one in the family.” Zach turned off the mixer with more than a little spite. He scowled and elbowed Joe none too lightly in the gut as he reached past him for the bowl of dry ingredients.  
  
A chuckle rumbled low in Joe’s throat as he actually resorted to repeatedly poking Zach in the arm. God, older brothers were great. So mature, so –  
  
“You only bake when you’re in L-O-V-E,” Joe said, sounding inordinately pleased. Who was sophomoric  _now_?  
  
No, not love. Certainly not  _love_. Zach didn’t just go around  _falling_  at the feet of a handsome, sweet, charming, learned man –  _um_. This was definitely lust. Zach could deal with lust.  
  
Zach swallowed the lump in his throat, but the swelling discomfort only lodged itself tightly behind his ribs. Joe had a point, and that only further aggravated Zach as he began to incorporate a bit of the dry mix into the wet.  
  
“L-O- _B_ -E? I’m in lobe? What does that even mean? Is  _your_  temporal lobe functioning properly, because you’re making all of  _no_  sense.”  
  
“Evade all you like,” Joe said with a shrug that was anything but disinterested. His gaze burned against Zach’s profile. “But I know what I saw, and I know how you get with guys – locked on like a missile with destruction eminent.”  
  
Zach schooled his face into calm lines and dropped the spatula in the bowl. He placed his hands carefully on the countertop and inspected his brother.  
  
“Thank you for your faith in me, Joe,” Zach said, barely restrained. “But I’m not going to fuck this up. That would put my  _job_  on the line, not to mention the emotional well-being of people I care about.”  
  
Joe merely raised an eyebrow.  
  
“The frigid bitch act isn’t going to work on  _me_ , Zach. Just... Listen to what I’m saying, alright? For your own good.” His lips twitched as he clapped Zach roughly on the shoulder. “Keep your head, because your heart sure as hell has no business getting in the way.”  
  
Zach bit back a snappy response and took a calming breath. Joe was right, of course. He just didn’t have to be such a jerk about it. Actually, never mind – that was what Joe always did.  
  
“Just leave me to my broken-hearted baking,” he teased, even as his hands faintly shook. “I’m going to shape these cookies into dicks instead of hearts now.”  
  
Joe laughed and shook his head as he meandered from the room.  
  
“Good luck with that, little bro.”  
  
Zach huffed and muttered, “Luck fucked me over several months ago.”  
  


***

  
“Good morning, ladies,” Zach said in greeting as Beau trotted up to him on the sidewalk with Chris trailing behind.  
  
“Hi!” Beau went to her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Zach’s cheek, which he returned.  
  
“Thanks again for inviting us to yoga, Zach. I haven’t had a relaxing moment in the last five months, I think. This’ll be great – won’t it, honey?”  
  
Chris looked at the both of them from behind sunglasses, his face dour. He took a long glug from his coffee cup, which probably did well to scald his internal organs good and proper.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
Not a morning person, then. Or a yoga person.  
  
Zach offered a sympathetic smile.  
  
“Calm down, Pine. You might dislocate something with that level of exuberance.”  
  
“I’m not a stretchy kind of person,” Chris said with the raspy morning voice of a smoker. “There are ways my body isn’t meant to bend. Several of which are occurring in that building.”  
  
Zach wasn’t going to think about Chris bending at all. Not in the slightest.  
  
He brightened his smile as he turned to open the glass door for them.  
  
“Then exercise something other than your tongue and get in.”  
  
Beau bounced past him, all perky ponytail and lavender matching gym clothes. Chris slunk by in a ratty sleeveless shirt and long basketball shorts. He looked like he was going to shoot some hoops with the boys, or something equally stereotypically masculine and cool. The thought brought up an unnervingly mental image of Chris all sweaty, flexing, and smiling as he bound around a court in the sun.  
  
Frankly, Chris needed to stick with the suits and wear less normal people clothes, because it was disturbingly distracting.  
  
“Oh!” Beau said as she bumped against Zach’s side and quietly said, “Cute instructor.”  
  
Zach eyed the teacher critically.  
  
“If you like the salt and pepper hair type.”  
  
“I do now,” Beau said with a laugh.  
  
The beginner’s class began as soon as they entered the room. Zach was more seasoned in yoga than the majority of people here, but he certainly wasn’t going to throw Beau and Chris into the complex and sometimes painful routine of an advanced class. He just sensed that these two carried a lot of tension, and he wanted to start their day the right way before they headed off to a cake tasting.  
  
Zach unfolded his mat between Beau and Chris so that he could offer additional instruction should either of them need it. What he hadn’t considered was his close proximity to Chris, and the way his muscles bunched and shifted beneath that faintly freckled skin. Certainly hadn’t factored in the bright flush of exertion lighting Chris’ cheeks and snapping electric blue to his eyes.  
  
Zach  _definitely_  hadn’t realised that Chris’ surprisingly limber body would be straining against thin, flimsy clothes just an arm’s reach away. Really, the man’s glorious ass was never far from Zach’s periphery, and that was just all shades of stupid on Zach’s part.  
  
“I hate you,” Chris said halfway through the class, not bothering to tone down his volume. Apparently he wasn’t a fan of the downward-facing dog.  
  
Zach tutted.  
  
“So rude.”  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was the exercise or Chris’ short, breathless laugh that warmed him for the rest of the day.  
  


***

  
“You have a dog, I love dogs.”  
  
Said scruffy canine promptly abandoned Zach and bounded up to Chris.  
  
Zach stared silently as Chris grinned down at Noah, who had jumped and placed his paws on Chris’ torso.  
  
This was unexpected. Normally Zach had time to prepare for the idea of Chris. Brace himself for that easy swagger and expressive hands and emotive eyes. Zach had no idea what Chris was doing in his backyard. He also didn’t know why Chris had to look so edible in tight black jeans and another plain white tee.  
  
Chris’ Nike’s were poppy red. He would never cease to scramble Zach’s image of him.  
  
Zach quashed a wave of exasperation. With himself, with Chris – whatever, whoever.  
  
Finding his clients attractive was not entirely uncommon. That was a basic chemical reaction of a person’s physical appeal. But with every month he grew to know Chris, Zach wanted another month to learn more. Zach wanted to know what was behind that smile and what stopped him from laughing most of the time, and why he wore ridiculous shoes. Zach wanted to know why it felt like something was swirling between them, like a fledgling whirlwind.  
  
It was driving Zach to distraction.  
  
Chris’ unmistakable throaty laugh yanked Zach from his thoughts, making him realise he’d been mindlessly watching Chris and Noah.  
  
 _Way to be creepy, Zach_.  
  
“Really,” Zach said like the idiot he was.  
  
Chris hummed in acknowledgment and ruffled the scruff of Noah’s neck. “I had this girlfriend once, for like six months. I don’t know what I was thinking, assuming that we’d be together forever – I guess I’ve always been like that.”  
  
He smiled cheerfully down at Noah, who had jumped up and slapped his paws on Chris’ chest.  
  
“Anyway, we adopted a dog together. When she walked out like a month later, taking Oscar with, I think I just about cried my brains out.”  
  
“Missed her?”  
  
Chris looked up, his expression unfettered and his eyes laughing.  
  
“Missed  _Oscar_.”  
  
Zach couldn’t help but mirror the smile in a slight daze.  
  
“You can come over and visit Noah whenever you like. Door’s always open.”  
  
Chris stared at him quizzically before a shy smile lit his expression and crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yeah?”  
  
When Zach realized he was basically perving on Chris, he cleared his throat and said, “So what’s up? What’re you doing here?”  
  
“Looking through photo proofs. Beau is in there with Joe, choosing their favorites.”  
  
“You don’t want to see them?”  
  
Chris dodged Noah’s tongue and laughed.  
  
“I already know what I look like.”  
  
“Yeah, well if I looked like you I’d frame pictures of myself in my living room. Or better yet, put a mirror above my bed.”  
  
Chris chuckled and shook his head. He stood and brushed his palms on his thighs.  
  
“You’re kind of a drama queen, y’know.” Zach opened his mouth to deny it, but Chris smiled and interrupted with, “A pretty one. I think you should put a mirror above your bed.”  
  
“You’ll be the first to know if I do.”  
  
 _Oh_. That hadn’t come out right.  
  
When had they begun standing so closely? That had to be Zach’s doing. He wasn’t good with personal space.  
  
Chris’ breath was just near enough to catch the scent of coffee and... something sugary sweet. His stubbly cheeks colored. Much to Zach’s relief, Chris rolled his eyes. “I should go. It was good to see you, Zach.”  
  
“Yeah,” Zach said hollowly, refusing to be entranced by the blessing that was Chris’ retreating ass.  
  
 _Oh God_.  
  
He needed to do some Hail Marys.  
  


***

  
“’Lo?”  
  
“Sorry, were you already asleep?”  
  
“I’m awake now. Hit me with your best shot.”  
  
“Doomed. Eight letters, begins with an ‘M’, ends in a ‘D’.”  
  
“Moribund.”  
  
“ _Moribund_?”  
  
“Goodnight, Chris.”  
  
“Night, Zach.”  
  


***

  
A barbeque. How wholesome.  
  
Zach stood in Chris’ sister’s backyard and wondered how the hell things had escalated to this point.  
  
He was friendly with his clients, but he didn’t make  _friends_  with them. Of course, his invite to the Pine family outing had been under Beau’s insistence. Apparently they were ‘like family’ or something. Beau had to be lonely, clingy or very kind to make such a proclamation – or very likely, a crazy cocktail of all three. Bless her heart.  
  
Since Beau had coerced him here and promptly abandoned him, Zach found nothing else to do but aimlessly scout the yard.  
  
A splash and a girlish shriek grabbed his attention toward the pool.  
  
 _Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus_.  
  
Chris lifted himself from the poolside with the strength of his arms. That man should never wear long sleeves again. His hair was dark and slicked back, accentuating the shocking chlorine blue of his eyes. He was laughing – no, more like giggling – as he attempted to flee the pool. He was clearly attempting a fumbling escape from the woman splashing behind him.  
  
She looked torn between spitting mad and amused. She caught a hold of Chris’ leg and yanked him back into the water. Chris squealed right before he flailed into the pool, and his friend cackled at her success.  
  
Zach hadn’t realised he’d been smiling like an idiot until he found himself doing so at the edge of the pool.  
  
Chris came up for air with a dramatic sputter, but his theatrics went unnoticed by the woman. Her attention was on Zach. She treaded water at the centre of the pool. Her voice was slightly breathless.  
  
“Hi! I’m Katie and you must be Zach. I’ve heard of you.”  
  
Zach’s smile grew.  
  
“Good things, I hope. Nice to finally meet you, Katie. Chris...” Zach paused, with a playful arch of his eyebrow. “Are you having fun?”  
  
“It would be more fun if you joined us,” Chris said, surprising Zach into silence.  
  
Chris paddled to the edge of the pool and rested his muscular arms on the concrete at Zach’s feet. He looked up with a boyish grin and ridiculously alluring laugh lines.  
  
“We have a basketball hoop at the end of the pool. The more the merrier.”  
  
Katie splashed the back of Chris’ head.  
  
“You just want a teammate so I won’t pound your ass again.”  
  
Chris winced and did poorly at hiding a snicker.  
  
“What the hell, Katie? Don’t talk about pounding your brother’s ass. You’re sick.”  
  
“Oh I’m  _sorry_ , my delicate flower.”  
  
Katie came up behind Chris and slung her arms around his neck. She peered up at Zach and mock-whispered, “Chris has sworn off ass pounding.”  
  
Chris’ face could not have been redder.  
  
Zach strangled back a laugh, taking in the spirit of the joke.  
  
“That’s unfortunate. He’s a major loss to the LGBT community.”  
  
Chris made a strangled noise and jerked from his sister’s arms. He dove away towards the opposite end of the pool.  
  
Katie and Zach exchanged a look. Zach was blatantly confused and Katie looked mildly exasperated.  
  
“Ignore him. He gets butt-hurt about gay jokes.” She grinned and said without malice, “He’s a sensitive soul.”  
  
“I see that,” Zach said carefully, his eyes tracing the fluid ripple of muscle beneath Chris’ slick, tan skin.  
  
“Fortunately, I don’t give a shit,” Katie said cheerfully. “Bro’s gotta toughen up sometime. Especially since he’s meant to take care of a lady now. Although I think we both know who wears the pants in that relationship.”  
  
Zach caught the insinuation that Katie might not approve of said pants-wearer, but it wasn’t his place to ask. He just smiled and nodded.  
  
“Well, anyway, I’d love to accept Chris’ invitation to the pool party, but I didn’t bring any swimming trunks.”  
  
Katie eyed his ripped jean cut-offs.  
  
“You a boxer or briefs man?”  
  
Zach laughed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Boxers or briefs?”  
  
“Um, boxer-briefs?”  
  
“Good enough for me. Strip down.”  
  
Zach snorted a laugh again, but quieted when he realised Katie was serious. After a moment of deliberation, Zach shrugged. What was the harm?  
  
As he tugged his tank top over his head, Zach quipped, “You just want to see me mostly naked, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, Zach. You caught me. That was my plan all along. Seduce you, trap you in my feminine clutches with promises of pedicures, and then make you my sassy gay friend until the end of time. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure you have an admirer.”  
  
The sentence was spoken with such nonchalance that it had barely registered. Zach was midway through wiggling out of his cut-offs when he snapped his attention up.  
  
Chris’ eyes were dark from across the pool and a frown pulled at his wet mouth.  
  
Zach looked away and stripped down to his purple boxers.  
  
“I wouldn’t call that admiring. It’s more like, why the hell is my wedding planner getting in my pool naked.”  
  
“First, it’s  _my_  pool and I can invite Bin Laden in if I want. Second, my brother is totally checking you out.”  
  
“He’s getting married,” Zach said flatly. As if that explained why there was no way Chris could be looking at him in any other fashion but annoyance. Also, Chris was straight.  
  
Katie blew a loud raspberry.  
  
“ _Please_. Just because a person becomes attached to someone doesn’t mean the rest of the world suddenly looks like lepers. I mean, my boyfriend is wandering around here somewhere, but if Harrison Ford happened to stroll in I’d be on him like white on rice.”  
  
Zach couldn’t help but chuckle as he eyed Katie with blooming adoration.  
  
“You’re not like Chris at all, are you?”  
  
Katie shrugged.  
  
“You’d be surprised. Now get in the fucking pool.”  
  
Zach was pleased to find that he genuinely enjoyed himself. Pool basketball was a blast – even if Katie managed to kick both their asses. Zach inwardly blamed the constant distraction of Chris’ body sliding against his, hands gripping Zach’s shoulders and back in attempts to capture the ball. It was a wonder that Zach didn’t get a raging hard-on right there.  
  
That would have been a horrifying ordeal for everyone involved.  
  
As it was, Zach made it out of the pool basically unscathed – although Katie’s potty-mouth might haunt him for the remainder of the weekend. The girl could talk some trash.  
  
Exhausted, Katie and Zach dried off and lounged poolside while Chris went off to find Beau. Zach basked in the baking sun for a good twenty minutes before Katie perked up beside him.  
  
“So, you and my brother seem to get along.”  
  
“Yes,” Zach said cautiously. “As much as an employee and his boss can.”  
  
“Oh, cut the crap, Mr. Polite. Chris treats you like a pal. Or I guess he spoke of you as if you were a friend.”  
  
“Huh,” was all Zach could find in him to say. His heart was doing somersaults and that was all sorts of wrong.  
  
Katie lolled her head towards Zach and peered over her sunglasses.  
  
“Alls I’m sayin’ is that Chris doesn’t make friends easily.”  
  
Zach remained silent, unsure how to reply. He and Chris texted on a semi-regular basis, usually regarding the wedding. They saw each other once every couple of weeks – sometimes more, sometimes less. Depending on Beau’s presence and mood, Chris’ demeanour ranged from open and friendly to totally taciturn.  
  
Zach didn’t know what was going on inside that head to make him so shy, but Zach had no doubt that there was a good reason. Unfortunately, Chris’ rationale was off limits to Zach. But if Chris considered Zach to be some fashion of friend, did that mean he had the right to ask if Chris was okay?  
  
Katie hadn’t seemed to mind the silence.  
  
“I’m his best friend, Zach. Always have been, with the exception of –” She smiled tightly. “I can see you two have something going. Be patient with Chris. He’s a good guy.”  
  
“I never thought otherwise,” Zach said, although his attention had snagged on the person whom Katie wouldn’t name.  
  
 _Huh_.  
  
Zach frowned at the mingling crowd and the kids splashing and screeching in the pool.  
  
“What about Beau? She and Chris complement each other.”  
  
Katie snorted.  
  
“ _Beau_  –”  
  
Someone called Katie’s name, hailing her over. Katie smiled apologetically and left Zach alone once more.  
  
Zach wondered again how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation.  
  
A pair of impossibly blue eyes and a flashing smile swam into focus and gave him his answer.  _Dammit_.  
  
Afternoon seeped into purple twilight. As the temperature dropped, some guests departed and others took refuge in Katie’s home. Zach had ended up in the kitchen, speaking with Chris’ mother of all people. She was warm and soft-spoken, and even though she and Chris had little family resemblance their demeanours were charmingly similar.  
  
They were in the middle of debating their favorite Alfred Hitchcock film, when Beau popped her head into the room. Her face was set in a pout. “Have any of you seen Christopher? I think he’s hiding.”  
  
Gwynne didn’t look particularly concerned. Her eyebrows flew up in recollection and she motioned for Beau to enter.  
  
“Oh Beau, my dear! Come in here, I wanted to discuss with you some ideas I had about the musical entertainment for the reception. Have you considered a string quartet?”  
  
Zach smiled and laid a hand on Beau’s arm.  
  
“I’ll find and return your man, honey.”  
  
Beau gave him a thankful look and turned her focus to Gwynne.  
  
Zach weaved his way through the rooms and soon deduced that Chris was nowhere to be found inside. Going out the back door, Zach surveyed an empty yard. The sounds of idle chatter and laughter poured from the windows and Zach smiled to himself. He had to admit that the Pine family and its extensions were an entertaining bunch.  
  
Today had been a good day.  
  
A distant song carried on the cool, night wind, the delicate plucking of guitar strings in a slow, soulful melody. Zach frowned and followed the sound, eventually coming around to the front porch of the house. The closer he got, the louder the song became. The throaty hum of a man’s voice dipped and twined with softly strummed notes.  
  
“To know know know him, is to love love love him. And I do – I really do, and I do.”  
  
Zach approached the bottom steps of the porch, where Chris sat at the top with his guitar. The lamplight from the street cast a faint glow upon his striking features, and curled playful shadows around his nimble, dancing fingers. His head was lowered, the tenor rasp of his voice grasping and caressing each word like a lover’s touch.  
  
“Oh, I’ll be good to him. I’ll bring joy to him. Oh, everyone says there’ll come a day when I’ll walk alongside of him. To know know know him is –”  
  
Chris’ palm pressed against the strings and the world lurched to a halt. The only sound was the sharp inhale of breath as their gazes latched and held. Zach’s lungs refused to function.  
  
“Sorry, I was just... looking for you.” Zach swallowed and willed his limbs to move. They didn’t, and Chris remained silent. Zach gestured to the guitar. “You’re, uh, really good at that, you know. Almost as awesome as my rendition of Janet.”  
  
“Thanks,” Chris said gruffly, sounding strained.  
  
“Keep going?” Zach asked – so softly, he was unsure for a moment if he’d mustered the words properly.  
  
“What?”  
  
Zach somehow regained the ability to move. He tentatively took one stair at a time, unable to rip his attention from Chris’ face. He looked almost vulnerable, like the shadows that cradled them were threatening to swallow him whole. Chris appeared more alone than Zach was comfortable with. No one should look that way.  
  
He sat gingerly beside Chris, their knees brushing. Zach leaned back on his hands and stared unseeing at the starless sky.  
  
“Keep playing. Just pretend I’m not here.”  
  
Chris murmured so low that Zach was unsure if he was meant to hear.  
  
“That’d be difficult.”  
  
“I sang for you. Now it’s your turn.”  
  
“You lip-synched.”  
  
“ _And_  danced. There was belly-dancing. You owe me.”  
  
Chris chuckled.  
  
“Do I?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
There was a moment of silence. Zach remained still and could swear he felt the heat from Chris’ leg brand him, like he would remember that touch forever.  
  
Chris cleared his throat and settled the guitar in place upon his knee. His hand did one sweep down the neck in a motion that had Zach repressing a shiver, and with that, Chris began.  
  
“To know know know him, is to love love love him. And I do – I really do, and I do.”  
  
His voice crooned in Zach’s ear, and if he hadn’t been sitting, his knees might have gone weak beneath him and given no choice in the matter. Zach curled his hands into fists as Chris’ voice climbed and clawed in a husky crescendo.  
  
“Why can’t he see – how blind can he be? Someday he’ll see that he was meant for me.  _Oh ooh_. To know know know him, is to love love, love him.”  
  
Zach hadn’t realised he’d been staring intently at Chris’ profile until blue-black eyes swept towards him for a brief look.  
  
“Just to see that smile, oh it makes my life worthwhile. To know know know him, is to love love love him.” Chris licked his lips and swallowed, his voice cracking on the final notes as he faced the desolate street. “And I do – I really do... and I do.”  
  
The final hoarse notes clung to the air like a promise that Zach had to ignore. At some point their knees had come to rest flush and warm against each other’s. Zach took a deep breath of the refreshing night air, but it did nothing to cool the flush creeping across his skin.  
  
“Winehouse? I wouldn’t have guessed you for a fan.”  
  
“Amy rocked that song.”  
  
“Between rehab stints.”  
  
Chris shrugged and leaned back, mirroring Zach’s position.

“She’s just like our dear Li-Lo. A lot of talent and poor choices going on there. Some people get lost on the way to their destination. Everyone takes wrong turns.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”  
  
“Who doesn’t?”  
  
“True,” Zach said slowly, nodding. His heart leapt when Chris’ pinkie brushed his own.  
  
 _Christ,_  how  _old are you_?  
  
“Chris.”  
  
Chris’ head was tipped back, his eyes to the sky. The line of this throat and the ridge of his collarbone beneath the flimsy t-shirt were highlighted in dim amber lamplight. Zach’s fingertips tingled to map every curve and edge.  
  
“I know it’s not my business to ask, and I’ve prodded before, but – yeah, if you want to, y’know, talk. Or grunt in manly monosyllables, I’m here.”  
  
Zach held his breath, counting the seconds of silence. Seven.  
  
Chris nodded.  
  
“Thanks for the offer.”  
  
Which was as good as a ‘no’.  
  
Zach was thankful for the blessed darkness when he bit the inside of his cheek and gathered the courage to slip his palm atop Chris’. His hand was utterly still beneath Zach’s, soft and warm and perfect. Zach squeezed it once and reluctantly released.  
  
“Just think about it.”  
  
“ _Christopher_?” Beau’s voice had them both snapping into motion.  
  
Chris fumbled to stand, his guitar making it awkward. His hand clenched around the neck.  
  
“Beau. Hey. I was just getting some air.”  
  
Beau’s stiff stance was outlined by the light of the doorway. Her face was unnervingly shadowed, but Zach had no doubt that she was staring straight into him as she addressed Chris.  
  
“We’ve been wondering where you were. Come in,” she ordered flatly.  
  
“Yeah, yes, of course,” Chris replied as he went to Beau’s side, leaving Zach standing on the stairs. Chris brushed a kiss across Beau’s cheek, but she made no move to lean in or react. When Chris slipped past her and into the house, she lingered on the porch.  
  
Zach smiled weakly.  
  
“I found him.”  
  
Beau cocked her head.  
  
“I did first.”  
  
She turned and disappeared into the house.  
  
For the third time today, Zach wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.  
  


***

  
Zach was not an apologetic person by nature.  
  
He liked to think he was rather empathetic, and good with people and various social situations. He tried not to offend or step over the line when he sensed it wouldn’t be received well. And in the instances that he had empirically violated someone’s boundaries, he had no qualms with apologising.  
  
But when the lines were blurred and he felt that he’d done no wrong, Zach would  _not_ apologize, regardless of how much the other person believed him to be guilty. Call it stubbornness or conceit, but Zach wouldn’t fold to shame that he didn’t feel.  
  
Zach had offered his ear to Chris as a friend. Regardless of any latent and totally inappropriate feelings he might have for him, the proposition had been one of camaraderie and nothing else.  
  
It just hadn’t looked that way.  
  
And if Beau was intimidated by that, it wasn’t Zach’s problem. If Beau and Chris were getting married, then it was their own responsibility to solidify their relationship with trust and affection.  
  
Zach hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, it seemed like Chris needed someone to talk to more than anything, and Zach was doing them all a favour by offering himself up as a sounding board.  
  
So why did he feel so fucking guilty?  
  
Why was he walking up the driveway of Chris and Beau’s home with a box of cupcakes and puppy-dog eyes?  
  
“ _Get the hell out of this house you fucking home-wrecker, or I will rip your balls off myself_!”  
  
Either Zach had taken a hallucinogen with his morning coffee, or Beau was screeching at the top of her lungs from inside the house. His first thought was,  _how did she know I was here?_ , before he realised how ridiculous that was.  
  
Oh, and then there was an attractive ginger guy rushing out of the house, looking red-faced and harassed. He gripped the door frame with white-knuckled hands and yelled into the foyer, “It takes two to wreck a home, darling. Hell, in this case, it’s three.  _You_! And by the way, you are  _never_  getting season six of  _Friends_  back.”  
  
A Louboutin heel flew an inch past the guy’s face, followed by an inhuman shriek from inside. The guy squealed and stumbled back into the driveway, nearly colliding with Zach.  
  
Zach took a step back, holding his pastry box out of the way. His eyebrows rocketed up.  
  
“Whoa there! Uh, can I – what’s going on?”  
  
The man stared owlishly at him and huffed out a breath.  
  
“Oh, I couldn’t even  _begin_  to tell you, honey. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Bitch has to be riding the crimson wave something fierce.”  
  
He was already stumbling away from the house, grumbling under his voice.  
  
“Still can’t believe Pine chose that crazy-face. Christ...”  
  
Zach blinked. He remained standing in the driveway as the man sped off in a shiny Volvo. Numbly, Zach wandered towards the shoe that lay on the asphalt and picked it up.  
  
He stared at the open door.  
  
This probably wasn’t a very good time.  
  
He walked in anyway. There were muffled voices arguing in one of the bedrooms. Zach stood awkwardly in the foyer.  
  
“Hello? Um, it’s Zach here.”  
  
A door slammed in the hallway. Quick, solid footsteps raced towards him. Zach had the vague image of being in a horror film, before the monster rushes into the room and tears the victim to shreds.  
  
In this case it was Beau, but the rest of the scenario was still fairly accurate. Her cheeks were streaked with coal tears and she had murder in her eyes.  
  
“Oh good, you’re  _exactly_  what I needed right now. Heaven forbid I have Chris to myself, right? Between Jason and  _you_ , I’m lucky my fiancé even fucks me!”  
  
“What the –  _what_?” Zach said, taken totally aback by the direction this conversation had taken. “The hell’re you talking about? I haven’t  _touched_  him, Beau. I’m your fr –“  
  
“ _Don’t_  say it,” Beau hissed. “Don’t.”  
  
She was busy collecting her purse and keys.  
  
“I’m so  _sick_  of this. I thought I was imagining it with you. Acting paranoid, like I am sometimes. You weren’t going to be another Jason. It was different. We  _work_  with you. We befriended you. I  _liked_  you.”  
  
She went toe to toe with Zach, her eyes glittering as she yanked the shoe from Zach’s fist.  
  
“We’re finished, Zach. You and Chris are over, too.  _Never_  come near my fiancé again. Is that clear? I am  _so_  done with well-meaning  _friends_.”  
  
“Beau, I haven’t done  _anything_ ,” Zach said, sputtering. “Let’s speak reasonably. I don’t know who this Jason is, but I’m sure as hell  _not_  him.”  
  
“You might as well be,” Beau said quietly. Her voice threatened tears. “When I get back, don’t be here.”  
  
Then she was gone and Zach was left with the wreckage from the storm.  
  
Zach warily made his way towards the pristine kitchen and set the box of cupcakes on the marble counter. Beau would probably want to eat like eight of them when she got back. He couldn’t blame her. Whatever that guy – Zach could only assume the ginger was Jason – had done or said regarding Chris had sent her on a rampage.  
  
Puzzling through the information that had been dumped in his lap, Zach wandered through the house in search of Chris. He approached the open door of the master bedroom and peered in.  
  
Zach’s heart clenched.  
  
Chris sat at the foot of the bed, staring down at his fisted hands. There was no sign of a fight in the neat room, just the haggard lines of Chris’ face and the flush of his cheeks.  
  
Zach slipped his hands in his back pockets to keep himself from reaching out.

“Chris?”

Large blue eyes snapped up, glistening with unshed tears that stubbornly remained repressed. Chris looked surprised to see Zach standing there.  
  
“Zach?” he croaked. “What are you – you should leave.”  
  
“I came to,”  _apologize_ , “visit. Just in time to catch the show. Or at least the final act.”  
  
Chris’ eyes darkened.  
  
“What did you hear?”  
  
“Nothing that made sense,” Zach said. He remained in the doorway. He didn’t want to come into Chris and Beau’s bedroom. That wasn’t... yeah. He wasn’t invading this space. “Although I think I met someone named Jason. I’m pretty sure the entire block knows that she and Beau aren’t exactly BFFs.”  
  
“They have history,” Chris said hoarsely.  
  
Zach got the idea that Chris wasn’t exactly referring to a romantic past. That much was obvious. Everything seemed to revolve around Chris. He was the force that people gravitated towards, whether they liked it or not. Zach had experienced the effect first-hand.  
  
He wasn’t going to mention the words he and Beau exchanged. Chris didn’t need that. He also didn’t need Zach hovering, asking questions.  
  
Chris needed a friend.  
  
Zach worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “Cupcake?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Would you like a cupcake?”  
  
Chris looked at him as if he was speaking in tongues, but at least the heartbreaking sheen was fading from his eyes.  
  
“Do I – why are you asking?”  
  
“Because I brought cupcakes,” Zach replied, as if this was obvious.  
  
Chris almost looked as if he would laugh hysterically, but instead he shook his head.  
  
“I don’t think I could stomach anything right now.”  
  
“You can stomach these, believe me. The frosting is pure sin.”  
  
“I think I’ve had enough sin to last a lifetime.”  
  
Zach placed his hands on his hips and stared at Chris.  
  
“I’m sorry, but  _who_  is the drama queen now? Get the hell out of that bedroom and into the kitchen. You’re having cupcakes and a glass of milk and you’re going to  _deal_  with it, okay? Okay.”  
  
With that, Zach spun on his heel and marched towards the kitchen.  
  
He could only hope that Chris would follow.  
  
Zach opened up the fridge and ducked his head in for the milk carton. He slammed the door and yelped when Chris was right beside him. Zach held a hand to his heart and sucked in a breath.  
  
“Jesus, Chris! Scared the hell out of me.”  
  
“Sorry,” Chris said despondently.  
  
Zach sighed and waved a hand at him.  
  
“Sit at the island.”  
  
He didn’t wait for Chris to respond. Zach swept past him and began searching through the cabinets for a cup. He found one, poured a tall glass of milk, and set it before Chris. Finding a plate, Zach opened up the box of cupcakes and pursed his lips in deliberation. The one with pink frosting, definitely. He set a yellow one next to the pink and came up beside Chris, settling on the other stool.  
  
Chris’ profile was heartbreaking. It took all of Zach’s will as a mostly good, honest person not to rub Chris’ back in comfort and place a kiss on his temple. The joints of Zach’s hands ached with phantom need.  
  
Zach tentatively nudged Chris’ side with his elbow.  
  
“Eat. If anything, the sugar will give you a fake high for a while. If you want to get down to the serious stuff like Jack Daniels and Sylvia Plath later, I guess I can condone that too.”  
  
Much to Zach’s surprise – because he didn’t think this was going to work  _at all_  – Chris nodded faintly and took a big, messy bite out of his cupcake.  
  
They ate in silence, their knees brushing in a familiar, reassuring way. When there were only crumbs left on the plate and Zach had finished the dregs of Chris’ leftover milk, Chris finally spoke. He stared at the grain of the marble.  
  
“Jason attended Berkeley with me. We were both in theater.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“We knew each other before I began dating Beau.”  
  
Zach’s breath hitched. He heard a distant  _ping_  in his chest, as if some snare had been released, as if something had opened within him.  
  
“ _Oh_.”  
  
“No.” Chris shook his head. “Not like that. Not yet, at least. We were friends. Close friends.”  
  
Zach stared at the blushing shell of Chris’ ear.  
  
“Beau said I might as well be Jason. I’m not sure I can agree. I could never pull off red hair.”  
  
That might have been a quirk of Chris’ lips, but the expression was fleeting. “I started going with Beau in sophomore year. We liked each other immediately. She was fun, and didn’t let me get too serious. Reminded me to have fun, reminded me to laugh. By junior year she was taking it all very... seriously. And I... I just wanted to have fun. I wanted to, you know, experience my life.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
“Beau didn’t realise that. Or, she didn’t  _get_  it and I didn’t bother to tell her properly. So I got it with Jason.” Chris flicked a glance toward Zach and gave a watery laugh. “You can  _oh_ now.”  
  
“ _Oooh_ ,” Zach said with embellishment, and earned another flash of amusement in Chris’ eyes.  
  
“It all went downhill from there,” Chris said softly. His fingers knotted together on his lap. “I couldn’t lie, so I told her everything. She flipped and walked out on me like I’d expected. And despite Jason being there for me, at my side, I didn’t feel – it didn’t feel right.”  
  
“Guilt?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Chris dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers clenching at the nape of his neck. “It wasn’t meant to turn out that way. Beau and I had been happy together – comfortable. Everyone has their arguments, right? But we’d always gotten past them. The major difference between her and Jason was –”  
  
“A dick?”  
  
Chris sputtered a laugh and then groaned. He folded his arms on the countertop and rested his forehead upon them.  
  
“Close enough.”  
  
Zach pursed his lips.  
  
“So you felt guilty. You realized Jason was more of a dick you wanted to  _get to know_  rather than a personality, but Beau was the personality you wanted, and you could live without the dick. I’m assuming you came crawling back and assured her of your undying love.”  
  
“That is,” Chris sounded like he was stifling a short, hysterical laugh into his forearms. “The most awful assessment of my life that I’ve ever heard, but I don’t think I can fault it.”  
  
Zach smiled. His palm hovered over Chris’ shoulder, so close. His hand slipped away, just in time for Chris to pull back and stare at him intently.  
  
“Zach, I need you to know that you’re not just a Jason.”  
  
“Not just a dick, you mean.”  
  
Chris nodded soberly, a crease appearing in his brow. Zach wanted to kiss it away. Instead he remained very still while Chris grasped for the proper words to express himself.  
  
“I know we haven’t known each other long –”  
  
“Six months is somewhat long.”  
  
“Be quiet, I’m trying to say things.”  
  
“Oh,  _things_.”  
  
Chris scowled with no malice.  
  
“Shut up. All I’m trying to say, without interruptions, is that you’re like, my friend.”  
  
Zach inwardly fisted his hands around his heart so that it wouldn’t crumble in his chest. Wordlessly, he reached across the counter, grabbed another cupcake and plopped it on the plate.  
  
“Have another cupcake, Christopher.”  
  


***

  
A while later and scant moments away from sugar comas, Zach and Chris flopped side by side on the couch. Chris stared dismally at the ceiling, while Zach tried not to look like he was staring at Chris. When Chris slung his arms over the back of the couch and one hand came very near to brushing over Zach’s hair, Zach made a point to look somewhere else.  
  
After a minute of comfortable silence, Chris said, “How do you envision  _your_  dream wedding?”  
  
“Left field,” Zach said with an arched brow. “But that’s easy. I’d never have one.”  
  
“Even if you found the guy of your dreams?”  
  
Zach refused to think too hard on what his perfect man would be like.  
  
“My dreams are sinful, torrid affairs which aren’t suitable for real life, especially not marriage.”  
  
Chris shifted and curled his legs beneath him, leaning against the armrest so he could cock his head at Zach.  
  
“I think that you think you’re way worse than you are. You’re like a puppy, Zach. Or at the very least, one of those kittens on catnip that climb up curtains and destroy potted plants, but then curl up on your lap so you can’t be mad at them.”  
  
“Hmmm, yeah _no_. I don’t think my imaginary boyfriend would be pleased if I curled up on his lap and demanded to be pet.”  
  
Chris shrugged and rested his cheek on the back of the couch. His eyes were red-rimmed and as shocking blue as ever, with his hair in sandy disarray and his face still flushed from upset. Right here, right now, with this quiet, vulnerable expression, he looked about five years old and completely lost. Zach wanted to pull  _him_  on his lap and rub circles into his back.  
  
Instead Zach offered a small curve of lips.  
  
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being a wedding planner, it’s that happily ever after doesn’t come from tying the knot.”  
  
Chris’ laugh sounded hollow and raw.  
  
“The romance is dead in this one.”  
  
“Even my tear ducts have dried up from disuse.”  
  
“Lucky. I swear I have the weeping threshold of a two-year-old girl.”  
  
“It takes a very manly man to be able to cry,” Zach said soberly, doing well to hold back a chuckle.  
  
Chris rolled his eyes.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Zach looked down at his lap and fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie. Quietly he said, “I think I’d just like a relationship where my partner knows I’m an asshole and they... And they like me anyway.”  
  
Chris’ brow furrowed and his smile was puzzled.  
  
“You’re not an asshole, Zach.”  
  
“See, that’s just it!” Zach fully faced Chris on the couch and scooted forward intently. “Like, in so many marriages it’s all ‘my partner is perfect’ this, and ‘greatest person ever’ that. And you know what? Those relationships disintegrate because they refuse to acknowledge each others' faults. Then when said flaws emerge on the shiny new veneer of their love – well,  _then_ come the accusations and the jealousy and the blame.”  
  
Chris raised his eyebrows and looked almost amused.  
  
“Fuck, you’re negative. I think that’s just the settling period that every couple goes through.”  
  
“No,” Zach said as he tapped Chris’ knee insistently with a pointer finger. “Look, if we were going to seriously date, I’d be like: By the way, I’m not a nice guy. I totally judge people. I correct those who improperly use the term ‘ironic’. I don’t like walking in the rain because it messes up my hair, and I go to bed early on weekdays because I like my beauty sleep. My feet are always cold, I eat way too much ice cream, I’m pale as a corpse, and I nearly died of joy when Banana Boat came out with SPF 110. Want to fuck and maybe have babies one day?”  
  
Zach didn’t notice that he’d been firmly holding Chris’ knee for most of his speech. Not until Chris went pink and glanced down, then up to fix his gaze on Zach.  
  
“That’s some invitation,” Chris said.  
  
Zach snapped his hand away as if burnt, and felt his face go up in flame.  
  
“Yeah well, anyway. Like I said, I’m probably only good for another jerk like me.”  
  
Chris smiled crookedly and threw a pillow at Zach’s face.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  


***

  
Three days later, Beau’s customary tall sugar-free vanilla skim latte no foam was already awaiting her when she slipped in the booth beside Zach. The fact that she’d chosen to sit beside him rather than across was a promising sign.  
  
She regarded him silently, her grey eyes sombre.  
  
Zach met her gaze levelly.  
  
“Did you eat my apology cupcakes?”  
  
Beau took a tentative sip of her latte. Her eyelashes lowered.  
  
“Maybe,” she murmured to the plastic lid.  
  
Zach sat back with the beginnings of a smile and arched an eyebrow.  
  
“Did you eat them out of spite, like ‘ _Ha-ha! I take your apology and digest it_ ’ or like, ‘ _I accept your apology and eat it too, even if I’m going to gain five pounds tomorrow and hate you all over again_ ’?”  
  
Beau’s cotton-candy pink lips twitched as she slowly met Zach’s eyes.  
  
“Somewhere in between.”  
  
“ _Ah_ , ambiguous cupcake consumption. I guess that’s better than unadulterated hatred.”  
  
Beau sighed and set her drink down carefully.  
  
“I don’t hate you, Zachary.”  
  
“Well that’s a relief, because I’m pretty fond of you myself.”  
  
Beau’s petite hands turned the cup around and around on the table.  
  
“I realize now that I may have overreacted. Chris explained to me later how you were simply attempting to help him open up. Just trying to be a friend to him.”  
  
Something in those words didn’t sit well with Zach, but he brushed the queasy reaction away and nodded.  
  
“Apology accepted, but unnecessary. I understand why you may have been suspicious of me. Chris explained about how he and Jason – well, whatever. He’s  _your_  man and you have the right to feel protective of him. I know I would.”  
  
Beau laughed hollowly and shook her head.  
  
“He explained to you,  _hm_? Did he also inform you that Jason was  _my_  friend first?  _Jason_  introduced Chris and I – set us up on a blind date, and then proceeded to snatch him up from under my nose when I’d trusted them both.”  
  
Zach did little to hide the shock in his expression. He slumped into her personal space and laid a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Oh, sweetie, I didn’t know. Chris didn’t say.  _Jesus_ , that –”  
  
He took himself into consideration. Counted the amount of times Zach had wished he could throw caution and morality into the wind and kiss Chris’ brains out. Force him to admit that getting married was the worst possible path for him. That should he run off into the sunset with Zach, there wouldn’t be any pressure in the relationship.  
  
Like it would be some fucking fairytale and no one would get hurt as long as they looked the opposite way. Right.  
  
And Zach thought of Beau.  
  
Beau, who was a whirlwind of purpose and intention. She was a person who made things happen. She got shit done without a sour word and smiled the whole way through. She pressed herself on others and tried to help them, even when they didn’t much appreciate or want it.  
  
Beau, who was fragile beneath the strong, carefree attitude. Betrayed in the past and still willing to forgive for the sake of love. But there had to be scars – that was inevitable. She was possessive regarding Chris – and now the puzzle pieces were coming together.  
  
Despite Beau’s clinginess and her sometimes overbearing disposition, and her need for utter perfection in all things – Zach genuinely liked her. He truly wanted her at his side as a friend. His loyalties had been swaying towards her for months now.  
  
The bitch of it was this: Zach felt the same way about Chris.  
  
How the hell could Zach juggle his fidelity for the two, when he was the third man who broke Chris and Beau’s trust for each other?  
  
“That’s awful,” Zach said softly, feeling like the worst kind of person. “But I can... I can promise you this, Beau.”  
  
Zach thought he might choke on the words as he met her eyes in earnest.  
  
“That’ll never happen again. Not with me or anyone. You’re going to have a beautiful wedding, a fabulous marriage and frighteningly blonde children whom I hope you will let me spoil endlessly.”  
  
Beau’s skinny arms clung to him in a tight embrace, and Zach promised himself that he wouldn’t be a totally selfish asshole.  
  
Somehow.  
  
It might take some practice.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey.  
  
your texts are always so eloquent. hi. what are you upto  
  
I try. Playing Resident Evil on the Wii. You?  
  
paying my mortgage. ironing out details of client wedding tomorrow. you know, adult things. unlike some people  
  
Beau is away on a girl’s weekend or something equally estrogen-related. And you’re just jealous that I got 15 headshots in a row while you’re working.  
  
there is some insinuation to be said about head but i’ll take the high road on this occasion  
  
First time for everything.  
  
youre so hilarious how do i resist you  
  
No idea.  
  
So, you’ve been working a lot.  
  
i tend to do that. to clothe and feed myself and galvanise my porn addiction. the usual suspects  
  
I haven’t seen you in a while.  
  
you saw me last week for the tux fitting  
  
Yeah, but we didn’t really get to hang out or talk or anything. Not since that day.  
  
i feel like it needs to be capitalised for added drama. That Day. it’s fine chris. things have just been busy. everybody loves a spring wedding apparently  
  
You’re not avoiding me?  
  
of course not why would i  
  
I thought maybe you’d be apprehensive about my... extra inclinations and think I was going to hit on you or something.  
  
i would never expect that from you. no worries  
  
Oh. Good.  
So you’ve really just been busy?  
  
im just trying to respect you and beaus relationship. i dont want to make her needlessly traumatised so close to the big day  
  
I guess that makes sense.  
  
i can be a very sensible person if i put my mind to it  
  
I appreciate nonsensical Zach too.  
  
hes not going anywhere either dont you fret  
  
So, do you want to hang out this weekend?  
  
wedding no can do  
  
Oh, right. Next week?  
  
ill let you know when my schedule opens up  
  
Okay. Good night, Zach._   
  


***

  
When in doubt, implement avoidance.  
  
Up until three weeks ago, Zach would have considered Chris to be a fairly mild-mannered, easy-going guy. Now, not so much.  
  
Every time Zach rejected Chris’ requests for just the two of them to hang out, it seemed like Chris only became more insistent. The guy was genuinely invested in keeping this friendship _thing_  going.  
  
And while Zach wanted the same – okay, the same with added sex and making out, and possibly something involving chocolate – it was just too difficult. It was hard to be at ease with Chris when Zach had to be careful, had the balance of the Pine-Garrett engagement resting on whether his hand accidentally slipped over Chris’ knee.  
  
A man only had so much self-control.  
  
During the times in which Zach was required to meet with the couple and secretly pine in Chris’ presence, Beau was always there, and the three of them would be finalising the wedding plans that were just around the corner. Zach remained playful with Beau and cordial with Chris, careful not to let an overly-flirtatious word slip.  
  
Beau began to monitor them less and less carefully, but Zach felt her watchful gaze on the back of his head anyway.  
  
The culmination of Zach’s skilful circumvention of the dangerous and unintentionally charming Chris Pine was Zach sitting alone with his brother’s laptop on a Saturday night. He sighed and idly clicked through proofs of his most recently completed wedding. It always brought him a sense of swelling warmth to see his client’s happy faces, and to give himself a pat on the back for a job well done.  
  
But tonight, the photos just didn’t bring him that sense of fulfilment. Zach had gotten off the phone with Chris not twenty minutes ago, having declined the offer to watch an Audrey Hepburn marathon on AMC together. And dammit, he really liked  _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ , too.  
  
Zach allowed himself a dramatic groan of frustration as he clicked away from the Barshney-White couple, preparing to slam the laptop shut with unnecessary force.  
  
Instead, a folder caught his eye.  _Pine-Garrett_.  
  
Before Zach could think better of it – and hell, these were his clients, he was allowed to look – he double-clicked and brought up a set of a hundred or so photos.  
  
Zach didn’t even hear his own pathetic whimper as he flicked through the shots and saw only Chris. Jesus Christ, the man was photogenic. Of course, this was nothing compared to him in the flesh –  _don’t think about the freckles, dammit_  – but Joe had captured the life and laughter in his eyes exquisitely.  
  
All Zach could think was that the breathless delight on Chris’ face was due to  _him_. Okay, Zach had been acting like a complete fool in some regrettable need for the spotlight, but that didn’t discount the fact that Beau never made Chris laugh like that.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Zach said and mashed at the keyboard in frustration. A photo popped up at random, and Zach could only gape.  
  
Chris’ body was angled away from the giggling Beau, his attention focused over Joe’s shoulder – Zach’s direction. The camera had captured every detail. Chris’ lips were pink and sober, slightly parted to reveal the gap in his lower teeth that Zach desperately wished his could slide his tongue over. The apples of his cheeks were rosy from laughter, and his eyes – his eyes gave Zach further pause.  
  
The pupils were blown wide and black, eclipsing the vibrant blue. The expression was unmistakable – Chris wanted something,  _someone_.  
  
 _Him_.  
  
“Oh fucking fuck,” Zach whispered and shut the laptop quickly. In his haste to stand and pace he nearly knocked the computer to the floor.  
  
“You hate me, don’t you God?” Zach asked the ceiling.  
  
This couldn’t be unseen. No possible way Zach could forget this.  
  
Chris was – or at least, had been at the time of that photo – attracted to him. That was – yeah, that was obvious. Either that, or Chris had just been incredibly hungry for a cheeseburger.  
  
Zach whined and stomped out of the studio and into the front room, disregarding the racket he produced. Joe was on a date and likely wouldn’t be home for the night, and even Noah appeared disinterested in Zach’s abject horror of this revelation.  
  
Because what could he really do?  _Nothing_ , that was what!  
  
There was absolutely zilch he could do but sit around and  _know_. Thank goodness Chris and Beau were getting married in two months. Zach was at the end of his frayed rope.  
  
Or, hell – was that the right way to think? As Chris’ friend, was it part of Zach’s responsibility to ask Chris if he was honestly ready for the long haul with Beau?  
  
Beau, whom Zach was mostly certain was being placated and coddled by a gay - bi? - man with a guilty streak a mile long. It was impossible to tell what Chris felt for her – he was so damn closeted about the entire subject unless it was forced upon him.  
  
So –  _what_? What was Zach’s role in all of this? Was he meant to play it passive or aggressive?  
  
Zach was about to fling himself on the couch when a rapid knock at the door had him flinching and glaring down the adjacent hall. Perhaps he could just ignore it – get some Ben & Jerry’s from the freezer and put himself into a cookie dough coma.  
  
The insistent rapping of knuckle to wood had Zach gritting his teeth as he stalked down the corridor to the front door. He yanked it open and prepared to send whoever it was away –  
  
Until Zach found himself staring at Chris’ reddened face. Zach’s hand clenched around the doorknob, his chest following suit as it tightened painfully around his heart.  
  
“Chris,  _uh_  –”  
  
“Can I come in?” Chris asked breathlessly, as if he’d run from his home to Zach’s.  
  
“Um, yes – yeah, of course,” Zach said warily and stepped back into the hall.  
  
Chris flicked an uncertain look to Zach, as if he’d expected to be turned away at the door. He swallowed and nodded curtly, whisking past Zach and down the hall. Chris left behind the musky scent of the Camels he smoked when Beau wasn’t around and the sharp, clean scent of citrus soap.  
  
Zach shut the door and quickly followed in Chris’ wake, refusing to let himself wring his wrists or fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie or drag at his too-long hair.  
  
“Do you want a drink or anything – a beer?”  
  
“What?” Chris turned to stare at Zach and licked his lips. “Um, sure.”  
  
Zach slunk away to the kitchen, hoping for a moment to bring his brain up to speed with what was going on here. Chris was clearly perturbed about something, and Zach knew better than to wing a guess as to what. In Zach’s limited experience, Chris seemed to carry a lot inside him, and rarely let it go. Zach wouldn’t even begin to fathom what this was about.  
  
With a sigh, Zach grabbed two Coronas by the neck and turned to let the door shut beh–  
  
Chris stood before him with a pretty little frown on his lips, sandwiched between the counter island and Zach. Zach nearly dropped the bottles as he slapped his free hand to his heart in alarm.  
  
“Fuck, Chris! We need to get a bell for yo– _mmf_.”  
  
Warm, smooth palms cradled Zach’s cheeks, and Chris’ hot mouth latched onto his with wet desperation. Zach’s cry of surprise was muffled by the roaring in his ears and Chris’ insistent lips. Zach didn’t move forward or back, but remained prone and yielding to the fingertips that dug into his tingling scalp, the jut of hips and the cold, hard belt buckle against his belly.  
  
Zach opened for him, his mouth welcoming that hot, desperate invasion as he went pliant and malleable against the weight of Chris’ body. Chris was making these frenzied little mewling noises at the back of his throat as his tongue curled slick and quick around Zach’s – and it was just nearly enough to bring him to his knees.  
  
“ _God_ ,” Chris rasped between staggered breaths and open-mouthed kisses, his voice punchy and dark, “What you – do t’me –“  
  
Now he was more nuzzling their lips together than anything as he cupped the back of Zach’s head and pulled him in close. The small act of affection had Zach literally yelping and physically throwing himself back against the refrigerator. His mouth tingled and his skin buzzed with the echo of Chris’ skin on his own. Chris’ heady scent and warm, welcoming taste clouded his senses as Zach plastered himself as far from Chris as he could.  
  
“No, oh  _no no no_. This isn’t – we aren’t – you need to leave,” Zach said, rambling as he kept as much distance as he could from those big, distressed eyes. Zach’s fingers were going numb from the beer bottles in his hand. Too soon the chill was creeping up his arm and the dousing the flames that had spread.  
  
Chris was frozen in place, encased in shock with his gaze zipping over Zach’s face and lips and body without rhyme or reason. He looked stuck, unable to react in any other way but mind-numbing panic.  
  
Zach was experiencing the opposite.  
  
“What the fuck are you  _thinking_ , Chris? You’re wedding is practically around the corner and you’ve been pressing the friendship thing – which was good, fine, great. That’s how it should be. I was going to do my job like a fucking  _professional_. And now this? I don’t even know what  _this_  is! I didn’t think that you – that I...”  
  
“Zach,” Chris said, sounding fucked and sandpapery. “I’m  _so_  sorry. This is just – with you I feel –”  
  
“You didn’t mean it.” Zach wanted to put his hands on Chris’ shoulders and shake him, but he knew he hadn’t built up the willpower to touch him just yet. He was still scraped thin and raw.  
  
Zach carefully moved forward and reached past Chris, placing the beer bottles on the counter beside him. He stepped back, met Chris’ eyes levelly, and tried to keep his head – or find it in the first place. It may have exploded a couple of minutes earlier.  
  
Chris was a passionate man. Beneath the pristine layers and perfect smile and the awful shoes was someone who felt deeply and powerfully – and had, on other occasions, blatantly admitted to easily giving up his heart. Zach couldn’t allow himself to think past these facts, because they were the only thing keeping him from dragging Chris to the floor and having his way with him.  
  
God, he was an awful person, wasn’t he?  
  
Zach inhaled a painful breath, his lungs feeling stuffed with cotton.  
  
“Look, we both know you love Beau. That’s why you’re marrying her. And this - this is you being terrified. Nothing more. I get it, I do,” Zach said, lying.  
  
He wasn’t a home-wrecker, and whatever connection they felt couldn’t be worth hurting an innocent person.  
  
Chris was just standing there like a striking statue carved of stone.  
  
“I just – I needed to know before –”  
  
How was Zach supposed to collect his thoughts when Chris was gaping at him with eclipsed pupils and kiss-bruised lips? The guy had essentially thrown himself at Zach in what could only be described as a fit of pre-marital insanity – and shit, it had been tempting to relent. To drown in those eyes and fist that silly fuzzy hair in his hands and bury himse –  
  
Um. Okay.  
  
So where did that leave them now, Zach wondered. It felt as if the next words spoken would set the tone for the rest of their relationship. But what could even be said? What had Chris been expecting here in the first place?  
  
Despite Zach’s very best interests, he found himself asking, “Why?”  
  
Chris took a step in retreat, but bumped against the countertop. He reached back and gripped the edge with white-knuckled fingers, like a lifeline. A large turquoise ring that could barely rival Chris’ eye colour glinted dully.  
  
Chris swiped his tongue over his chapped lips.  
  
“I’m not – I’m not a strong person, Zach.”  
  
“That's not true,” Zach said with a frown.  
  
Chris was far from perfect, but who wasn’t? Zach had witnessed firsthand the times which Chris put Beau first, just out of thoughtfulness. He knew how Chris tried to please everyone, even if it could make him miserable. Zach saw a man who’d had one bone-breaking fall after another, and just kept getting back on that horse with as much effort as it took.  
  
Basically, he saw a guy who was just another guy. Someone who happened to follow his instincts a bit blindly, but that was just the way of it.  
  
“Well, that’s nice, but you’re wrong,” Chris said with a weak smile. “I don’t, uh. I get something –  _someone_  – lodged in my head and I can’t release. I don’t even know when or how it happened that I –”  
  
Chris clammed up, as Zach had known he was bound to. Chris had reached his monthly quota of communication, and Zach couldn’t blame him. This level of self-expression could ruin them both – especially considering what Chris’ words were doing to Zach’s insides. To his heart.  
  
Zach looked to the floor, because he couldn’t speak to Chris’ face. Not without grabbing him and kissing every frown line on his forehead.  
  
“You need to go.”  _Don’t go_. “Curiosity is officially sated.”  
  
He was shocked that he didn’t choke on his own words, or collapse at Chris’ feet in apology. Beg him to run away to Hawaii, where they could live on the beach and both get awful sunburns while they drank super-gay umbrella cocktails.  
  
Instead he folded his arms across his chest, stared down Chris, and bit his own tongue – hard.  
  
Zach was upset. Frustrated with the both of them. That Chris couldn’t keep it in his pants and that Zach hadn’t wanted him to.  
  
Just what brand of asshole was he? The worst kind, probably. Zach could teach a class at the Asshole Academy. Because at the end of the day it didn’t matter  _what_  Chris did, or how he acted – what mattered was how Zach reacted and handled the situation. How he handled  _himself_.  
  
Right now he was doing a pretty piss-poor job of it.  
  
Chris regarded him with guarded, glistening eyes that gave nothing away – and for once Zach was glad for it. He didn’t want to know what Chris was thinking, what he was feeling. That wasn’t his business. That wasn’t his job.  
  
Without a word, Chris turned on his heel and marched out of the room. He didn’t look angry or upset – he didn’t look like anything. At least, from what Zach could tell from the back of his head. He sure as hell wasn’t seeing Chris out.  
  
The door closed quietly in the hallway, the click of the lock like a gunshot to Zach’s ears.  
  
Zach finally allowed his wobbly knees to give out. He slid down the fridge to the cold, hard tile and dropped his head in his hands.  
  
“ _Fuck_.”  
  


***

  
There were no more calls, no more texts, no random meet-ups, and especially no Chris at the final planning appointments.  
  
Zach knew he should feel relieved. That he should be at ease now that he had no temptation dangled under his nose day in and out. He should be glad that his life’s largest inconvenience had been swept away, and that he’d acted like an adult about it – as best he could, but come on, this was  _Zach_.  
  
Instead he was a miserable, grumpy bastard.  
  
Well, inwardly. Zach happened to be a fabulous actor. He could carry a veneer of cheerful, helpful wedding planner without much difficulty. But that didn’t change the fact that he just wanted to tell the bride that her dress was hideous, and tell the oblivious husband that her skinny-bitch wife was cheating on him, and that lilies were flowers you used at funerals, not weddings.  
  
Okay, so Zach was an asshole. That wasn’t a news bulletin. What concerned him was how near the surface his emotions lingered, and how easily he felt his temper flaring these days.  
  
But fuck, his heart hurt. And the worst part? He deserved it. Zach very rarely felt that he deserved any nasty shit that came his way – because he was clearly a flawless guy like that. This time though, he totally had it coming.  
  
“So that’s us basically finished,” Zach said as he clapped shut Beau’s wedding binder and slid it across his desk. He’d recently begun to move his meetings with her to more serious locations rather than coming to her house, or she to his, or going to LAMILL. Things were simpler this way, and Zach could keep his business face on rather than his bitch face.  
  
Beau took the binder and held it to her chest like it was a precious thing. She smiled brightly. “I can’t believe the date’s just around the corner. You’ll be at the rehearsal dinner, won’t you?”  
  
“Ah.” Zach scratched his head, his smile wavering. “I don’t really attend those things. They’re not really my style.”  
  
Beau waved him off with a flippant flick of the wrist. “Don’t be silly. You like food, you like us, you like Chris’ family. What’s not your style?”  
  
 _Fucking your fiancé in the bathroom_?  
  
“Romance,” Zach said. “Can’t stomach that shit, babe.”  
  
“You’re such a liar,” Beau said with a laugh.  
  
Zach held his hands up in innocence as he leaned back in his seat.  
  
“No lie! Someone once gave me flowers on a date and they burst into flames when I touched them.”  
  
“You probably held them over a candle.”  
  
“You are a ruiner of things.”  
  
Beau raised a perfect eyebrow.  
  
“You’re going.”  
  
Zach swallowed tightly and forced a smile that might just break his face and give him wrinkles in the future.  
  
“I’m going.”  
  


***

  
“Zach, get your tiny ass over here!” Katie Pine said with a severe lack of an indoor voice as she waved at him from across the restaurant.  
  
Zach crossed the dining floor that had been rented out for the large get-together of family and friends with a smile on his face. Dammit, he loved this chick.  
  
“Katie!” Zach went for air-kisses, but ended up in a rib-cracking hug that he couldn’t help but return. They pulled apart and grinned at each other like old friends. “I’m glad I came now.”  
  
“Shit’s boring, isn’t it?” Katie said without malice as she tugged Zach’s wrist and led him to one of the circular tables. “We can sit wherever today, unlike the actual wedding reception, so you’re sitting by me and my man. Anything to keep away the creepy relatives whose names escape me. You look good, by the way. You work a suit better than cut-offs, that’s for sure.”  
  
“Hey,” Zach said with a laugh. “I’m not sure if I’m insulted or complimented.”  
  
Katie winked as she settled into her seat.  
  
“I like to keep my men on their feet.”  
  
“ _Hm_ , last time I checked I belonged to the Pine-Garrett party who hired me. Or at the very least, Beyonce.”  
  
Before Katie could reply, there was a chorus of greetings from around the tables, and Zach looked up to see Chris and Beau entering the restaurant. They were all smiles and waves and gorgeous clothes, and Chris had this closely-shaved beard that looked fucking delectable.  
  
Zach could’ve sworn he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d honestly assumed it wouldn’t be like this. He didn’t think he would experience this choking swell of regret and longing in the same breath. He didn’t think he’d immediately flash back to that frenzied kiss in the kitchen.  
  
But there it was, that humid thickness in the back of Zach’s throat that allowed him a weak smile as Chris and Beau sat across from him at the table.  
  
Well, fuck his life. Fuck his life up the ass.  
  
“Zach,” Beau said as she leaned across Chris’ lap. Chris looked down and away, his cheeks pink. “Thanks for coming.”  
  
Zach smiled tightly.  
  
“I don’t remember having a choice.”  
  
Beau blinked for a moment, then laughed as if she’d decided Zach was kidding.  
  
Zach managed to avoid all contact with Chris for the first half of dinner, which was easier than he’d anticipated, due to Katie’s constant chatter. Unfortunately it was all down to her that he had to eventually acknowledge Chris’ existence, and vice versa.  
  
“So, Princess,” Katie began as she propped her elbows upon the table and tilted forward. “What’s it feel like to be the future Mr. Beau Garrett?”  
  
Chris’ cheeks colored, but he merely gave a good-natured grin.  
  
“How’s your endeavor into the future as a crazy cat lady? How many is it now, seven?”  
  
“Six, but after the third one you don’t even notice the change. Anyway, not everyone is as disdainful of cats as you. Zach, you like cats, right?”  
  
Zach looked up from his plate, where he’d been trying to look busy scooting his food around. He and Chris locked eyes for the first time that night, and it was Zach who dropped his gaze and willed away a blush. He wasn’t going to be  _that_  obvious.  
  
“I love all nature’s creatures as long as there’s a vacuum and cleaning supplies at hand. Chris liked my cat.”  
  
 _Ugh_ , Zach didn’t know why he’d said that last part.  
  
Katie perked up as she smirked at Chris.  
  
“Did you?”  
  
“Zach’s cat isn’t as obnoxious as  _yours_. Cats like yours should be institutionalised.”  
  
“You’re such a cat bigot. Zach, isn’t he a cat bigot?”  
  
Zach couldn’t help that his lips curved – he couldn’t help that he looked to Chris and found the smile nervously mirrored, all perfect and stupidly white.  
  
“I can’t talk. I’m a bigot regarding overalls. Anyone over the age of five who wears overalls is someone with whom I can’t associate.”  
  
At that point Chris’ mother called away her son’s attention, and Zach was free for a time.  
  
By dessert, Zach needed to breathe. Watching Chris do an excellent job at pretending like nothing had happened was a huge relief, as well as incredibly perturbing. Zach excused himself quietly to Katie and stood, making a hasty exit.  
  
He burst from the front doors and rounded the building, slinking into the side alley beside the restaurant. He slumped against the brick wall with a sigh, and watched as the sunset licked at his feet in puddles of orange and pink.  
  
Moments like these made Zach wish he still smoked. Who really needed their health, anyway?  
  
The crunch of shoes on gritty pavement had Zach’s attention snapping toward the alley entrance. His heard stopped.  
  
Chris stood in the sunlight with his bright stare bent on him. Zach inclined his chin in recognition. Chris seemed to take that as assent, because he slipped his hands in the pockets of his slim, dove grey slacks and meandered over.  
  
Zach wasn’t beyond the humour that they both wore suits in shades of grey. The only difference being Chris’ robin’s egg blue shirt and Zach’s plum one. They practically matched. _In more ways than one_ , an annoying voice reminded him.  
  
Zach was painfully aware of Chris leaning against the wall not a half foot away, with his hips jutted out and his shoulders back. Zach’s body was buzzing with a restraint he wasn’t used to instilling upon himself. Not since he met Chris.  
  
The scrape and fizz of a lighter flaring up alerted Zach to the hollowing of Chris’ unshaven cheeks as he took a long suck on a cigarette. A ribbon of blue smoke shot from his flared nostrils as he shifted to offer Zach a puff.  
  
Zach stared at Chris’ fingers and the cigarette that nestled in the pale vee.  
  
“This a truce?”  
  
Chris was staring at the opposite wall.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Zach nodded faintly and accepted the cigarette, plucked it from Chris’ fingers without brushing skin. He took a long drag and blew it to the sky. He didn’t look to his side as he passed off the dwindling smoke.  
  
“Nice beard, by the way.”  
  
“Yeah? Not sure Beau appreciates the burn.”  
  
Zach absolutely didn’t think of how he’d love that stubble burning rashes into his thighs, his ass, his neck. Totally didn’t imagine how he’d give just about anything to be rubbed raw and sensitive by that dusky beard.  
  
“You should keep it for the wedding. Then when you’re old and look back on the photos, you’ll think, ‘Hey, I look younger  _now_. I age so gracefully’.”  
  
“Are you saying I look old?”  
  
“ _Mature_. There’s a difference. I wouldn’t worry, anyway. I’m sure you’ll age like George Clooney or something.”  
  
“I’ve always wanted to be George Clooney.”  
  
“Well there you go, everybody wins.”  
  
Zach didn’t feel very much like a winner, but at least there was this small victory, this delicate truce. This recommencement.  
  
“You should go,” Zach said. One of his hands pressed back against the brick, his fingertips digging into the hard, grainy surface. “Wouldn’t want to miss the speeches.”  
  
Chris groaned in a way that shot straight to Zach’s dick. From the corner of Zach’s vision, he could see the cigarette clinging precariously to Chris’ full bottom lip as he spoke.  
  
“I hate speeches.”  
  
Zach huffed a laugh and nabbed the stubby smoke from Chris’ mouth. The pad of his thumb brushed Chris’ warm, pink bottom lip, and Zach knew he was going to hell on the express lane.  
  
“Same,” he said, and puffed the cherry down to the filter. “S’why I’m out  _here_ , obviously.”  
  
“I’d say I’m sorry that Beau made you come, but I’d be lying.”  
  
“You can lie,” Zach said quietly. “In fact, I encourage it. See you inside.”  
  
Zach tossed the cigarette to the pavement as he walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

“What’s eating at  _you_?” Joe asked as he wandered into the living room.  
  
Zach tucked his feet under him and remained fixated on the screen. He shovelled a spoonful of Phish Food ice cream in his mouth.  
  
“Nothing. You wanna watch with me?”  
  
Joe looked from Zach to the television and back again.  
  
“Yeah,  _no_. I’m not interested in a marathon of America’s Next Top Model, but thanks.”  
  
“Your loss.”  
  
Joe heaved a sigh and flopped on the couch beside Zach.  
  
“Did you have a break-up with someone to whom I’ve been oblivious?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Did you have a break-up with a celebrity that you’ve never met and are in mourning?”  
  
“Hey, that only happened once.” Zach shoved another oversized glob of Ben & Jerry’s in his mouth. “I told you, I’m fine.”  
  
“Is this about that Pine guy?”  
  
Zach choked. Coughed and then choked again.  
  
“No,” he eked out.  
  
“You’ve always been the liar in the family.”  
  
Zach shot Joe a half-hearted glare.  
  
“I take that as a compliment.”  
  
“Don’t I know it.” Joe nabbed the melting carton from Zach’s grip and sat it on the coffee table. He ignored Zach’s incredibly vocal protests and flicked off the television as well. He stared hard at Zach. “Spill.”  
  
“Well, I did spill some melted ice cream on my hoodie. But this one is old and I have like four other purple ones because there was this sale at –”  
  
“ _Zach_ , man the hell up,” Joe snapped with a furrowed brow. “I’m not going to judge you, okay? I know you like to think the  _world_  is paying attention to you and only you, but it’s actually not. So if you tell me a secret, E! News and TMZ aren’t going to broadcast it.”  
  
Zach tried his very best not to pout. Instead he shrugged and looked down as he began to play with the zip of his sweater.  
“'Kay.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So some stupid stuff may’ve happened.”  
  
“How eloquent of you,” Joe said dryly.  
  
“Well it’s not like it’s any of your business, so –”  
  
“Are you  _trying_  to sound like a teenaged girl right now? Because you’re doing a bang-up job.”  
  
“Chris fucking kissed me,  _okay_?” Zach nearly shrieked.  _Oh my god_ , he was absolutely turning into a hysterical mess. How had he managed to keep cool for so  _long_? How had he not screamed and started to chew on the table cloth when Chris had first walked into that restaurant? “And I practically got a taste of his tonsils before I remembered that life is a game where you’re supposed to at least  _pretend_  to be a decent human being.”  
  
“Shit.” Joe looked a bit lost for a moment before he laid a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Everyone makes mistakes, man. You just... Learn from that, I guess.”  
  
“What if I learned that I’m a home wrecker? A slattern – a man of loose morals!”  
  
“Okay, number one, don’t make me go all the way into the kitchen for a paper bag into which you can hyperventilate. Number two, this – well, I mean there is really only one thing you can do.”  
  
“What?” Zach hurled himself back against the armrest of the couch and hugged his knees against his chest. This  _sucked_ , and it sucked to feel like a damsel in distress, and it sucked to realize that he really needed to stop this crap. This was just a massive suck-fest, and not in any of the good ways.  
  
“You need to distance yourself from the guy as much as possible.”  
  
“Really? Because I was planning on climbing into his bedroom window naked,” Zach said flatly.  
  
Joe gave him a quelling look.  
  
“We both know how you are, Zach. You’ll justify reasons to be around him, to hang out with him a few minutes longer, to touch him when it’s unnecessary. When Ma told you not to press the buttons, you pressed the buttons. When she told you the stove was hot, you had to put your hand on it just to make sure. When there’s gore in movies and you know you should look away because it gives you nightmares, you peek between your fingers. You’re that guy.”  
  
Zach could feel his face burning, but it wasn’t like he could bullshit Joe – or himself – over this. His brother knew what he was talking about.  
  
“It’s not like I  _want_  to ruin their lives and consequently my business, you know.”  
  
“Well, obviously.” Joe rested a heavy hand on Zach’s knee and squeezed. His small smile was familiar and reassuring. “Just remember that your actions affect everyone around you. I think sometimes you forget that in your little world where it’s all about you and no one else.”  
  
“I enjoy my little world,” Zach shot back. “It’s very comfortable.”  
  
“You’re such a snot,” Joe said with a laugh. He used Zach’s leg as leverage to stand. “Just get your shit together, little brother. You’re walking a dangerous line, yeah?”  
  
Zach thought of Chris’ laugh, and the way his cheeks went cherry red when he really smiled.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  


***

  
“Zachary!”  
  
“Beau.” Zach frowned at his cellphone and the tone emitting from it. “You okay?”  
  
“I really don’t know.” Beau sounded more annoyed than anything – and for a perpetually perky person, that was a point of concern. “I was hoping you could tell  _me_.”  
  
Zach didn’t have the brain power to react. Everything just shut down as he froze.  
  
“Zach? Are you there?”  
  
“I – yes.”  
  
“Okay.  _So_  –” Beau took a huge, audible breath. “I like, suggested we buy a puppy after our honeymoon to, I don’t know, be like a practice baby I guess – and also because I  _love_  those Labradoodles. Have you seen those Labradoodles, Zach? They’re like half-Labrador and half-Poodle and yeah – but Christopher had like an absolute meltdown at the mere mention. I might as well have pulled a gun on him, you know?”  
  
“Um, B–”  
  
“You know how Christopher is, Zachary. What bee’s in his bonnet? Is he like allergic to dogs and he’s insulted because I forgot?”  
  
“Um, Beau?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Not to sound like a total dick, but isn’t there anyone else you can talk to about this? As amazing as I may be, I’m not actually a relationship therapist.”  
  
“Oh my goodness, no – I totally know, I know. It’s just that I’m not exactly  _friends_  with any of Christopher’s cohorts. I probably wouldn’t recognise them on the street. But  _you_  know Chris – pretty well, if I had to guess.”  
  
 _Well enough that I’ve had my tongue down his throat_.  
  
“This isn’t really –”  
  
“Zachary,  _please_.”  
  
Zach rubbed a hand over his face, his voice coming out muffled.  
  
“He and his ex-girlfriend adopted a dog together. When they split she took it with her. As far as I know, Chris was upset about it.”  
  
“Oh.” Beau was silent for a moment. “How did you know that?”  
  
Christ, there was no pleasing some people.  
  
“He mentioned it once.” Zach stared blankly at the paperwork laid out before him. “Look, I’ve gotta go. I’ll –”  
  
“Of course, darling! I’ll talk to you later. Thanks!”  
  
Zach hung up and took some time to repetitively thump his forehead on the desk. He couldn’t wait for the Pine-Garrett party to be out of his life.  
  
Except that was a total lie. Whatever.  
  
His phone rang again. Zach reminded himself to change the tune away from ‘Maneater’, because now it was starting to feel wrong.  
  
Zach considered not answering. When he saw it was Chris calling, he  _really_  considered not answering.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Do you know what the hell a Labradoodle is?” Chris asked in a voice laced with panic.  
  
“My sources say that’s a cute dog.”  
  
“Beau wants to get one.”  
  
“As a practice baby.”  
  
There was a sigh on the other end. “She got to you first, didn’t she?”  
  
“I’m a valuable commodity.”  
  
Chris laughed weakly, but at least it was something.  
  
“I totally overreacted. I’m still overreacting.”  
  
“We all do. This one time my assistant spilled coffee on my Armani jeans, so I fired her.”  
  
“You didn’t.”  
  
“Okay, I didn’t, but I wanted to make you feel like less of an asshole.”  
  
Chris chuckled again, a bit stronger.  
  
“Now you’re definitely the biggest asshole here. And I’m at a Whole Foods.”  
  
“Ouch, I shop at Whole Foods.”  
  
“Point proven.”  
  
“ _You_  shop at Whole Foods.”  
  
“Observation stands. Hey, you wanna get together for a drink?”  
  
Zach swallowed hard as his face flooded with heat.  
  
“No.”  
  
There was a quiet breath and then, “Was that you lying?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Okay. Well, thanks for talking me down, Zach.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Chris.”  
  


***

  
Luckily for Zach, he had five weddings the week of Chris and Beau’s ceremony. His attention was stretched in all directions as he attended one grand shindig after another. There was little time to moon over Chris or worry about Beau or to do much of anything aside from work.  
  
His work was nice, fulfilling. Zach liked weddings – well, the parts without the boring vows and smelly old relatives. He got a kick out of the parts with cake and the electric slide, and little kids in adorable suits and dresses. He revelled in knowing he was a part of something special, even if it wouldn’t last.  
  
With broken fairy tales circulating through his thoughts, Zach sat on a tacky, neon-colored beach chair under the cover of his tiny back porch. He sipped from a sweating beer bottle and watched Noah bound around the yard, basically playing fetch with himself. A soft mist floated down from the dimming sky, that made the grass glisten and sparkle in the waning light. The twilight breeze was cool on Zach’s face and bare feet as he zoned out for the evening.  
  
He needed to turn his brain off. Stop thinking about marriage for two seconds, stop thinking about everything. Because tomorrow was –  
  
Zach’s phone buzzed in his ratty jeans. He sighed and lifted his hips from the chair, nearly toppling backwards as he unearthed his cell from his back pocket. A drawn-out groan followed Zach’s realisation that it was Chris calling.  
  
 _Don’t you dare answer_.  
  
“Hey, Chris. What can I do for you?”  
  
“Zach. Hi. Um.”  
  
Zach dragged his hand over his face.  
  
“Your articulacy is astounding sometimes.”  
  
Chris breathed a faint laugh.  
  
“I just – tomorrow’s the big day, y’know?”  
  
“Is it? Gosh, I think I forgot. I’m not sure I can cancel my dentist appointment.”  
  
“Ha-ha, fucker.”  
  
“What? You don’t get perfect teeth like mine without meticulous oral hygiene.”  
  
“Right.” Chris sounded nervous again.  
  
Zach forced himself to slouch back in his seat and relax.  
  
“Can I help you with something?”  
  
“Uh, don’t freak out or anything, but I’m kinda outside your house right now.”  
  
Zach’s heart knocked hard against his ribcage. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced levity to his voice.  
  
“What a coincidence. So am I.”  
  
“Are you – where? I don’t see you.”  
  
 _Don’t do this. Don’t play with fire. You are not Drew Barrymore. You are not the Firestarter. You are an idiot!_  
  
“Come around back.”  
  
There was a hesitation on the other line.  
  
“I mean, is that okay – that I’m here?”  
  
“I can’t stop you,” Zach said quietly.  
  
“You’re such a vague asshole.” But Chris’ voice was echoing around the side of the house, and Zach could hear the rusty latch of the gate squawk. “Who taught you to speak, Yoda?”  
  
“So says the king of the one-word answers.” Zach hung up before Chris could retort.  
  
He watched Noah run toward the side of the porch with gleeful barks, just as Chris’ profile appeared. His hair had grown out since the first time they’d met – it was less fuzzy, electric shock now, and more bed-head disarray that would comb well into a retro side-part for wedding photos. Not very Chris-like, in Zach’s opinion, but the guy could pull off whatever the hell he wanted.  
  
Chris’ raspy voice was breathy with excitement as he greeted the dog and allowed Noah to jump all over him.  
  
“ _Noah_ ,” Zach said, stern and sharp enough to have the dog snapping back to the ground. Noah was just like his master – far too exuberant and open with handsome blonds.  
  
Chris rounded the porch, his lips curving with that familiar shyness as he took the stairs up to Zach. They didn’t meet each other’s eyes – they both just barely grasped that silent, mutual agreement to avoid such contact. Not for the first time in Chris’ presence, Zach felt both disappointed and relieved.  
  
“Have a seat.” Zach gestured to the pink lawn chair beside him. “I’ve got classy digs, I know.”  
  
“I love your house,” Chris said as he sat down and splayed out his legs. Black jeans clung dangerously to his thighs and calves, ending on those stupid poppy red high-tops that Zach had grown to adore. “Lawn chairs and all.”  
  
“Yeah?” Zach concerned himself with grabbing another beer from a half-empty six pack beside him. He passed it off to Chris, who snapped off the cap with his thick, turquoise ring. The dull shine of the stone had Zach flashing back to the kitchen – soft lips, pleading eyes, insistent fingers and hot, desperate gasps of breath.  
  
Chris tilted his chin and brought the bottle to his mouth for the first slow sip. The gentle rain had settled on Chris’ skin like a thin layer of dew and darkened his hair with tiny beads of moisture. Zach’s pulse hammered in his ears as he watched the damp line of Chris’ throat shift as he swallowed.  
  
Like clockwork, Zach’s skin began to hum with the proximity of Chris. Zach was permanently aware of Chris’ presence, whether he wanted it or not.  
  
“How’re you holding up?” Zach asked, for lack of anything better.  
  
“Fine,” Chris said, even if they both knew he was probably lying. They needed to remain on this course. Any divergence would end badly. “Beau’s staying with her girls overnight, so we don’t see each other until the aisle the next morning. I didn’t feel like being alone, I guess.”  
  
Zach didn’t ask why Chris came to  _him_  instead of some closer friend.  _Couldn’t_  allow himself to ask.  
  
“Well, you know me. My door’s always open.”  
  
“Really?” Chris said in a strange tone.  
  
Zach got the distinct impression that a pair of laser-blue eyes were burning into his profile. He didn’t reply, just brought the beer to his lips and took a long swig.  
  
“And afterwards?” Chris said, with his voice low and intent. “What then? You’ll be done with us once we’re no longer your clients?”  
  
Zach refused to choke on his drink like a fool. He swallowed tightly, slouched further in his seat, and began to pick listlessly at the bright Corona label. “It’s not like married couples need the wedding planner after they’re married, Chris.”  
  
“ _I_  need you,” Chris whispered fiercely.  
  
Zach froze, staring at the soggy paper in his hand. Breath didn’t come, neither did words. His heart felt like a moth fluttering manically against a pane of glass, attempting to flee its prison. More than anything, Zach wanted to run.  
  
More than anything, Zach wanted to stay.  
  
“Don’t say that,” Zach said, barely audible. “Don’t be ridiculous.”  
  
“ _Ridiculous_ ,” Chris hissed beside him. He huffed a laugh – and before Zach could react, Chris’ chair knocked back, and a mostly-full beer bottle toppled to the floor and rolled away.  
  
The clamour of Chris’ approach should have startled Zach into an escape attempt, but still he didn’t move. Chris was between Zach’s spread legs, kneeling snug between his thighs. Large, rough palms cupped Zach’s cheeks – same as the time in the kitchen – although this time no lips came.  
  
Chris looked up at him with angry, glistening eyes and a mouth both hard and soft at once.  
  
“Ridiculous?” he bit off, pressing forward so that Zach could feel the heat of Chris’ belly against his crotch. “Do you think what I feel is stupid, Zach? Do you think that I  _want_  to want you? Do you think I’m not as pissed with you as I am myself?  _Fuck_.”  
  
“Pine,  _stop_.” Zach didn’t know how his beer ended up on the ground, or how the musky hops and summer rain and Chris’ citrus scent drove him to hunch forward and cup his hands around the back of Chris’ neck. “Chris.”  
  
Zach’s heart felt dislodged, beating crooked and painful in his chest as he dropped his forehead to Chris’ damp brow. Their lips were so close, Chris’ mouth open, gulping in breaths as he tipped his head up with a sharp little whine. The pad of his thumb smeared over Zach’s bottom lip, the skin salty and so fucking tempting to suck.  
  
Zach groaned and dug his nails into the hot skin at Chris’ nape. He pulled back just enough to bump his head against Chris’, as if that would knock some sense into both of them. “Stop, stop. We need to –”  
  
“Stop,” Chris said in a hoarse voice, as if he’d been screaming or getting a good fuck. “Need to stop. Yeah.” His nose bumped and brushed over Zach’s, their lips orbiting each other’s with a proximity that bit at Zach’s skin.  
  
They remained in place, curled in toward each other, fingertips nesting in beating temples and rough jaws and in soft hair, breathing each other’s air.  
  
Hushed and low, Chris said, “Why am I doing this?”  
  
Zach didn’t know if he meant  _this_ , or the wedding, or his life, or something else. Regardless, the answer had to be the same. Because Zach really, deeply, terrifyingly cared for Chris. The answer  _had_  to be the same.  
  
“It’s none of my business.”  
  
Chris snapped back, his hands falling in time with Zach’s. He searched Zach’s immobile expression with wet eyes entreating an explanation that wouldn’t come. Still kneeling between Zach’s thighs, still prone in position but with steel forged in his spine, Chris’s face went hard and stony.  
  
“You really are an asshole, you know that?”  
  
Zach swallowed the pleading, the begging, the pursuing. He was above that. He wasn’t actually, but he needed to play pretend right now. He needed to in order to survive this.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.”  
  
Zach sat alone, long past dark.  
  


***

  
Zach burst through the door to Beau’s ready room, all fluttering hands and brusque, but warm tones. “What are we doing here? Beau, what are you doing here? You look ravishing, by the way. Very modern Grace Kelly in all that lace.”  
  
“Zach?”  
  
“But we really need to be going. We’re already late, and soon you’ll have bored children squealing in the aisles and elderly folk falling asleep or needing the bath–”  
  
“ _Zach_.”  
  
Zach placed his hands on his hips.  
  
“What, darling?”  
  
Beau’s eyes were too huge, her fingers clad in flimsy lace gloves twisted at her wrists.  
  
“Christopher’s disappeared.”  
  
Zach blinked.  
  
“I’m sorry, what? I was in his room with his frat boy buddies not twenty minutes ago, and he was looking devilishly handsome and nervous as all hell.”  
  
It was then that he realized one of aforementioned friends – Cho? – was in the room too. Cho cleared his throat and looked away.  
  
“He just said he was gonna take a piss. Then he was kind of... Not in the bathroom, and not anywhere else.”  
  
The litany of curses that swarmed Zach’s brain came out as, “He’s probably lost in the maze of this house. I’ll find him.”  
  
He smiled at Beau and walked forward to take her hands in his.  
  
“I’ll find and return your man, honey.”  
  
Beau went pale, and her voice was watery as he carefully extracted her hands from Zach’s.  
  
“That’s what you said last time.”  
  
Zach absolutely didn’t flinch. He just nodded silently and swept out of the room.  
  
 _Fuck_.  
  
Zach stalked through the old, renovated mansion, past sweeping staircases and grand halls and gargantuan, glittering chandeliers. But there was no sign of Chris.  
  
He wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? He and Beau’s marriage – and the consequent end of all this temptation dangled in front of Zach’s poor self-control – would be set in stone any minute, and Chris was skipping away from the aisle like a kid playing tag.  
  
What the hell was Chris  _doing_?  
  
Zach ground his molars as he swept through the bustling kitchen. The beauty of holding the wedding and the reception in the same building was that Zach could be everywhere at once.  
  
The downside was that people who wanted to disappear had a lot of places to hide. Zach had hunted down the runaway bride/groom on more than one occasion, but this was the first time he wasn’t totally sure he wanted to find this missing member of the wedding party.  
  
He’d have to talk to Chris. He really didn’t want to talk to Chris.  
  
Zach busted out of the double doors of the kitchen that led to the back garden – and found Chris. He was sitting on a wrought-iron green bench, all hunched as he stared at his feet. Even from this distance, from this angle, Zach was braced by the beauty of his profile.  
  
More than that, Zach was constantly struck by the earnestness of Chris’ disposition. Zach didn’t know when it started, but at some point Chris had become embedded in Zach’s chest. Each moment with him had hammered the nail in harder, messier, deeper into Zach’s heart.  
  
Shit like that didn’t heal overnight, especially if Zach was too frightened to pull the barb out of his chest in the first place. It already ached enough.  
  
“Where are you?” Zach asked quietly.  
  
Chris jerked up in his seat, suddenly and intensely focused on Zach. His pupils were like pinpricks in a sky of blue.  
  
“You’re always the one to find me, aren’t you?”  
  
Zach shrugged.  
  
“So are you.”  
  
No one had pursued Zach like Chris had. No one had looked through him, searched for him – felt so passionately about him. No one had ever cared enough. In turn, Zach had felt gravitated to Chris very early on in their relationship, and had wanted to befriend him despite his usual rule of keeping it professional with clients.  
  
They’d developed a strangely symbiotic relationship without meaning to – without  _wanting_  to. Zach made Chris feel cared for, and Chris made Zach feel like a good person, a fun person.  
  
Chris looked away, his expression still and staid.  
  
“I’m considering what to tell her.”  
  
Zach swallowed a lump of fear.  
  
“Chris –“  
  
“Scratch that. I’m considering  _how_  to tell her. How to tell her that I’m a coward.”  
  
Zach couldn’t breathe. He realised they’d been speaking to each other from across the garden, and Zach had yet to take a single step forward. And wasn’t that how he always was? A coward, too. Frightened to put himself out there in the ways that mattered, in the ways that could potentially get him hurt.  
  
Still, he didn’t move.  
  
“You could just say that,” Zach said lamely.  
  
Chris snorted without humor and stood.  
  
“Yeah. Okay.” He pulled at the hem of his tux, looking every inch the prince as he strode towards Zach.  
  
“Chris,” Zach said, feeling gripped with a choking panic that he couldn’t put to words. “If this is because of us, don’t you think we should –“  
  
“Zach.” Chris stopped beside Zach, their shoulders parallel. He glanced over in time with Zach, and there was something in Chris’ eyes, in the strength of his expression that was unrecognisable. One corner of his mouth tipped up. “At the end of the day, this really isn’t about  _you_.”  
  
“Wait, what –”  
  
“I’ll see you around.”  
  
The only sign that Chris was ever there was the lingering scent of cologne, and the thunder of Zach’s heart.  
  


***

  
“Beau?” Zach knocked on the door again. “Honey? Most of the guests have left now. It’s just your mom waiting for you.”  
  
There was no reply.  
  
“So I’m coming in, and I hope you’re not in any potentially embarrassing states of undress.”  
  
She wasn’t. She sat at the makeup table, just staring dry-eyed at her reflection. Meticulous as ever, Beau was already out of her unused wedding dress and dressed down in sparkly, white velour sweats. Zach was absolutely not going to comment on that poor life choice, especially considering the sheer amount of awful decisions he’d made in these past months.  
  
“Beau?” Zach didn’t know what Chris had told her, or how much. Again, he found himself hesitating at the threshold out of sheer self-preservation.  
  
“He just said everything we already knew,” Beau whispered, her voice scraped up. “That he was scared and that I hadn’t cared. That I was trying so fucking hard and  _he_  hadn’t cared. God, he was more straightforward with me today than since we first met.”  
  
“That was all he said?” Zach said.  
  
Beau flashed him a look like an arctic wind.|  
  
“It’s none of your business.”  
  
Zach took a step back and bumped against the closed door.  
  
“Yeah, I mean of course, obviously. I’m sorry, Beau.” He took a deep breath and met her eyes. “I mean, I’m  _really_ sorry.”  
  
Beau inclined her chin and looked nothing like a lover just scorned.  
  
“Maybe you are. Either way, I don’t think I ever want to see you again.”  
  
Something cracked within him, and the sound splintered through his chest like icicles.  
  
“Yeah,” he croaked. “Of course.”  
  
Zach left without saying goodbye.  
  


***

  
The months passed like someone had injected anaesthetic into Zach’s life.  
  
He didn’t do the whole Ben & Jerry’s drill. He didn’t bury himself in debt due to endless mood-lifting shopping sprees. He didn’t cry or curse or complain.  
  
All of that would have told people that something was wrong, anyway. Zach didn’t like people realising he was broken. He’d rather lick his wounds in private and come back healed, a bit scarred, but alive.  
  
He avoided questions with smiles and jokes and a cheerful attitude, because he could. So maybe he was less bitchy than usual and a lot less selfish under certain circumstances – and all that attracted attention. But he attributed it to finally getting around to reading  _The Power of Now_ , and people believed him because he loved that New Age crap.  
  
But in reality, it all came down to Chris.  
  
Zach had briefly considered pursuing Chris. After all, it was because of Zach that everything had fallen apart.  
  
Wait, no – it hadn’t been about Zach. He’d been the catalyst for something that merely needed the spark to ignite and explode and change. All along, it hadn’t really been about him.  
  
Even still, Zach hadn’t exactly come out unscathed.  
  
Dammit, he missed Chris. Zach hadn’t been able to delete Chris’ – or Beau’s – phone number from his cell. Hadn’t been able to stop looking for Chris in every LAMILL window, or thinking of him every time he bought a blue slushie. He missed that full, raspy laugh, and all of those stupid shoes, and the late-night crossword phone calls that had been an excuse to hear each other’s voices.  
  
“ _Blegh_!” Zach said as he threw the morning newspaper across the kitchen, where it managed to land in the sink with a rustle. Zach scowled at his coffee cup and half-eaten pancakes, and realised this would be one of those days he couldn’t stand to be alone with himself. To be honest, even  _before_  Chris he’d hated to be alone without distraction, but these days the symptoms of cabin fever came on something fast and fierce.  
  
Zach tugged on some grey sweats, a striped t-shirt, and was about to unearth some socks when a knock sounded at the front door. Noah went into a flurry of barks as he skittered down the hallway – closely followed by Zach, who grabbed Noah’s collar just before he could physically pounce the door.  
  
“Methinks someone needs to return to the academy for misguided canines,” Zach said as he wedged himself between the energetic dog and the door. He twisted and yanked at the knob –  
  
“Hi,” Chris said with a wavering smile.  
  
Zach gaped. Blinked and gaped some more.  
  
“Uh,” Chris said, shifting from one foot to the other. “My name’s Chris.”  
  
Zach’s eyebrows rocketed up as he dragged a hand through his hair and laughed incredulously. “Yeah, I heard that somewhere.”  
  
“I mean.” Chris wet his bottom lip and held Zach’s eyes in an unwavering look. “My name’s Chris. A lot of the time I’m a complete asshole. I don’t like confrontation, but when I do it, it’s in a wildly over-dramatic fashion that has even been termed as ‘divalicious’. I’m a cry baby and a pushover, and a snarky, emotionless dick to cover that up. I have frat boy tendencies when left to own devices, and I think I can cook about two meals that don’t involve a microwave. I spend too much money on sunglasses, I inwardly lose my temper more times a day than I care to count – oh yeah, and I’m a total coward. Do you wanna fuck and maybe have babies one day?”  
  
With Noah barking and flailing circles around their feet, Zach pulled Chris into his arms and kissed him soundly. Chris hummed his approval low in his throat, and the sound of happiness shot straight through Zach’s heart. He buried his hands in Chris’ dishevelled hair, and coaxed open that perfect, willing mouth with hot, thick swipes of tongue and dainty nips and sucks on Chris’ full bottom lip. Chris went plaint against him, all firm and warm lines and hands at his waist.  
  
When they finally parted, it was only to gasp for breath and nuzzle lips and noses, and gently bump foreheads.  
  
“I do,” Zach said.  
  


_The End_

  
  
_PS_ : Beau lived happily ever after. She started breeding Labradoodles and fell in love with the yoga instructor she met that one time, way back when. A year later, she met Chris and Zach at a dog park. Her Labradoodle peed on Zach’s leg, so she called all debts even.


End file.
